THE LIBRARY
BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY
. PROVOt UTAH
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TKAYELS IN THE AIR.
\k
f
AERIAL YGYAGERS.
[ They Landed in a Wisconsin Cran-
berry Bog.
I^ive Days' Experience They Will Not
Soon Forget.
CHICAGO, Oct. 21.— A private dispatch from
hippewa Falls, Wis., announces that Prof,
ing and the signal service officer who accom-
panied biru have arrived sately at that place.
'fee balloon made a descent in the « oods. and
they have been two days in getting out of the
wilderness.
The following has just been, received from
Chippewa Falls, Wis.:
"We are nil safe. Just out of the woods.
[Signed] "King,
"Balloonist."
Chippewa Palls is situated on the Chippewa
river, about 185 miles northwest of Malison.
Late advices state that the ballo .u dropped
quite near there, but that King and his com-
panion were lost in the swamps for live days
and suffered greatly .
The Xcws' Chippewa Falls special says: Prof.
King is now here. The balloon landed Friday
light 65 miles up the liver from here. The
Aeronauts were two days in working their way
p human habitation and it has been iuipos-
tble to reach a railway or telegraph station
mil now owing- lo iho impassability of the
oads which is due in a large measure to the
mmeccdented fall of rain.
The Daily Xctvs has the following from J. G.
(ashagan, signal service employe, who went
p in King's balloon:
The voyagers who look such hastv flight last
r's-arsa u from civi nation fe„l no such dispo-
sition to-day. If you should see us now
I dragged, torn, water-soaked and exposed, you
would sorely bay we loved civilization before.
Five minutes after leaving terra firms wc
reached an altitude of 4,300 feet, moving
hwest; a few minutes later we readied ah
upper current moving slo--.lv westward, so
slowly thru we barely moved: but what a pros-
pect beneath ns; were soon shut out by night
and saw nothing but myriads of lights ' twink-
ling in the distance. We remained
there suspended, neither rising nor falling
for several noms. But at last a puff of air sent
us southwest, changing before morning to
west and northwest. We remained about be-
calmed three bonis, swinging in a circle over a
II City that, from its locution, I judged to
Peoria, 111. At 5:15 on Friday we passed
over Spring Valley, Wis., startling the natives
by dragging our drag rope over their roofs,
>ne ambitions fellow sent a shot af er us
We passed over the Platte mounds at 7:15 a.
M. Wc remained lor a long time, swinging
around these picturesque mounds, when the
ball ion, as though anxious to give us a heav-
view, took an upward turn, carrying as
to ieet above the strata el clouds and liter-
ally burying us in milk lor an hour. In pass-
ing Little Falls, Monroe county, Wis., we came
tear the ground that wc came m contact
with the trees and were compelled
to take a large portion ot one along as a souv-
enir. When v.e neare.d the ground we were
rreeted with a beautiful view of verdure in ev-
-ry variety of form. Children were hushed,
dogs culled off, horses whipped up, and old
Wintry matrons stood in their doors with arms
dumbo, and with the most surprised and com-
ical attitnde.
At 8 a.m. we passed over Pntlan, or some
similarly named place. At 9:40 A. M. we
passed To mall, Wis. Ar 9:50 we arose among
the clouds and lost sight of Mother Earth
for a tew hours. The wind increasing carried
us at a rapid rate — probably forty or Si y
miles per hour — and uot being able to discern
stationary objeets Me could not tell where we
were or what course we were pursuing. Mean-
while the rain poured in torrents. Collecting
on the outside of the balloon, it poured do»n
from the mouth of the bag into the basket in a
steady stream, compelling us to put
away the instruments; but it was
useless— there was no dry pin-head
among them. At 12:15 P. M.. the highest
known elevation was reached, being 9.UOO
feet. From the last person spoken we found
we were forty miles from St. Paul, and when
we deseeiidoi aL 2:30 p. M. on the west bank
of the rrver, a half-mile inland, we concluded
we were in the stato of Minnesota, probably
forty miles from St. Faul, on the Mississippi
river. Wi.h this supposition in mind
stepped out ol our ear into about eighteen
inches ol" ice water, a. id we found we were ill a
cranberry bog and had to get out.
To recite our experience after that tor fivei
succeeding days is too horrible. How wc
walked five days up to our knees through bog-
gy swamps without food except a half pfm ol
berries; how the wolves and beats have
snarled around us at night; how wa slept on
the wet ground a eight, through heavy rr ■ -:- .
only to start again in the morning through
swamps with its ice water and failing over
muddy logs at every step— I cannot put in
words". As a last resort we built a ra;t expect -
ing to go over St. Anthony 'a falls. Of our sub-
sequent disappointment and our subsequent
tramp 1 will tell later. But, oh! our joy when
u 1 o'clock in the evening of the fifth day we
reached Flambeau river and were carried
across by Cletamoc and Michael Minor, wood-
men, and here we are enjoying the good things
given us.
[Signed] J. George Hasuagen.
licit the Balloon.
Chippewa Falls. Wis.. Oct. 21.— Prof. King
remarks that water is a very lair diet for five
days, after a man gels used to it. At 4 o'clock
the filth day they discovered two men in a
on the Flambeau river, who came to their res-
cue and guided them to Bruno Vinette's stop-
ping place. They then organized a force and
started for the balloon, but found it too heavy
to move, so they left it until next winter, when
they will remove it. They left for Chicago to-
day.
2f. 133Z
#*» '" "" A,
?•
JAMES GLAISHER, F.H.S.,
CAMILLE FLAMMARION, W. DE FONVIELLE,
GASTON TISSANDIER.
EDITED BY JAMES GLAISHEK, F.K.S.
WITH ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS.
PHILADELPHIA:
l H. LIPPINCOTT A CO.. L\l L'ORTEPvS.
1871.
Uf±.l2H
Ur to this time Prof. King, the aeronaut,
has made a poor showing in his attempt to
glide from Minnesota to New York: City in an
air-ship. His balloon is of a new pattern,
and it is constructed on the most scientific
principles. All that is known of air-sailing
is combined in this gigantic apparatus, and
yet the results indicate that we are no further
ahead in this branch of science than we were
ten years ago. We have faith in the ultimate
ability of man to cleave the atmosphere and
ride about at will in air-ships. When Keelv
perfects his Motor and is able with a few
drops of water to impart enough power to a
pocket engine to drive a locomotive, then we
will have balloons with paddle-wheels and
wings which can be steered and directed
with perfect ease. At present a balloon is at
the mercy of winds and currents. Itmxybe
necessary in the future to carry in air-ships an
apparatus for the manufacture of gas, for the
constant escape of the volatile substance
renders prolonged yoyiges absolutely im-
possible. We feel a deep and profound inter-
est in this business of air navigation, for if
train-robbiDgis to continue in Missouri we
will have to find some mode of travel that
will place passengers with valuables beyond
the reach of every Bassafras and sage-bush
citizen who is able to buy a shot-gun or a
self-cockinsr revolver. A balloon flying at an
altitude of about two miles would seem to be
about the proper caper, and we are not cer-
tain but that a line between St. Louis and
Kansas City would pay now, even though
ballooning is anything but safe and certain as
at present conducted.
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
A Second Edition enables me to speak concerning the use of the
balloon during the siege of Paris.
When I laid down my pen a few months ago, I little thought that
a new chapter was about to be added to the History of Aerostation,
and that the time when the balloon would take its place as a
necessary means of communication was so near at hand. Although,
in common with my colleagues, I had long hoped to see more attention
paid to the improvement of aerial navigation, still it is painful
to reflect that the stimulus has been afforded by the misfortunes
of France.
I had long felt satisfied that the balloon could be used with great
advantage to explore the ocean overhead. As a philosophical instru-
ment, although rude, costly, and most unmanageable, it had so many
good points about it, that I was hopeful — as will be seen from the
narratives in the body of the work — that its use would be attended
with varied and important benefits to science. But an invention,
however beautiful or interesting, unless it commends itself to some
definitely expressed interest, or fulfils a purpose generally understood,
is apt to languish. The balloon is a case in point. The necessity of
exploring the aerial ocean, and seeking within its depths for the
causes of atmospheric phenomena, has never yet been generally
recognized. Situated at the lower confines of the atmosphere, we are
limited in our observation of forces which, expended upon the earth,
are conceived and regulated above. To trace the origin of these
forces, to visit them in operation, to enter upon the boundless sea
of inquiry they open, are sufficient reasons why physicists should
vi PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
regret the imperfection of the instrument, and the absence of com-
bined efforts to improve it, bnt, it must be admitted, they afford no
direct stimulus to quicken the apathy of the world at large.
When I say that Paris, under pressure of the siege, had recourse
to the invention of her country, that for four months the balloon
afforded the sole means of departure from the capital, and materially
assisted in prolonging the resistance of the nation ; and that, under
the direction of the Tost Office, it became the means of transmitting
letters and despatches, and by it were conveyed from the city the
pigeons by which alone it was possible for the provinces to com-
municate with the capital, I merely repeat what everybody knows ;
but the comprehensive scheme, organized by the Government, for the
construction and management of balloons, and the regularity with
which they were despatched, are not so well known. Further on will
be found a list of the times of departure and places of descent of
these air-ships, sent out in time of war to navigate an unknown
ocean, to contend with darkness by night, and the enemy's fire
by day.
"Whatever may be the future of aerial navigation, the history of
these first regularly sustained and hazardous ventures will never be
without interest. Intimately connected with the siege, their record
will ever remain to testify to the suffering and endurance of Paris.
For the following details, relating to the management and working
of the Postal Service, and. the manufacture of the balloons, I am
indebted to the kindness of my colleagues, as well as to M. Jules
Godard and M. de Simonin, the author of La Vie souterraine, Les
Pierres, Sec., who had himself ascended several times, and whose
published account of aerostation during the siege, which recently
appeared in the Revue des Dnix Mondes, attracted general attention.
Apart from the interest which must attach to all particulars
illustrative of the state of Paris during the siege, these details
have a special interest in their present place, as they carry
on the course of enterprise pursued under happier auspices by
MM. Flammavion, De Fonvielle, and Tissandier; the names of
the last two gentlemen will appear once more in connection with
new efforts.
/
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. vii
It should also be noticed that there is no break in the continuity
of the voyages previously recorded with those belonging to the siege.
The need was urgent, and there was no time to originate fresh con-
structions, or introduce new principles. The old invention as it stood
was to be stimulated into success, if success were to be had. But it
was necessary that new balloons should be made, and at once, for not
a balloon in Paris at the commencement of the siege proved on
examination to be sufficiently trustworthy to pass over the besieging
lines in safety. To remedy at once this state of affairs extensive
works were commenced. No pains were spared to avoid failure, and
no detail was thought trifling enough to be overlooked.
The material was naturally the first consideration ; this needed to
be of even texture, without fault of manufacture, and above all
strong. The fabric of greatest strength it is well known is that of
silk, but silk was far too costly.
The material decided upon was calico, either white or coloured.
That it should be gas-tight it was varnished with a mixture of linseed
oil and oxide of lead. To make the oil consistent and dry the
-varnish was applied by a rag, and not by means of a brush, so that
all the pores or chance apertures in the material were sealed and
rendered thoroughly impervious to the escape of gas. This applica-
tion was made to both sides when time permitted, but generally the
outside alone was coated.
Two factories were established, one at the Orleans, and the other
at the Northern Railway Station. The former was placed under the
management of M. Godard ; the latter under the direction of MM.
Yon and Dartois. MM. Godard and Yon are known in London as
having superintended and directed the ascents of M. Giffard's Captive
balloon, at Ashburnham Park, Chelsea, in 18G9. Both factories were
uuder the direction of the Post Office.
The material employed at the Northern Station was white, that at
the Orleans Station coloured, and both places adopted the same
method of procedure in commencing. The size of each gore for the
intended balloon was carefully drawn on a horizontal plan, just as is
done in the construction of a globe. These gores were sewn together
by hand at the Orleans Station, and by sewing machines at the
viii rBEFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
Northern ; each method had its advantages, the one affording greater
speed, the other better work. After the sewing was completed, the
balloons were varnished and rilled with air for the purpose of search-
ing out defects or flaws which might have been overlooked ; while
thus inflated the varnish dried most rapidly. The network, made of
tarred flax, the car, and all the other appurtenances, were manufac-
tured at these establishments.
Each of the two railway stations during this time of activity pre-
sented an extraordinary scene, the Orleans Station in particular.
There women were engaged in the various branches of the work,
drying and ironing, or carefully examining the materials to ensure
their soundness. The calico was washed to destroy the acridity of the
dye, and hung up to dry upon the woodwork of the station, ready to
be cut up on the ground-plan. This operation, which required accu-
racy, was performed by numerous workwomen, under the personal direc-
tion of M. Godard; there might be seen every day nearly a hundred
women, silent and attentive, marking with mathematical precision,
by means of a pin and card, the distance between each point : this
part of the work was shown to but few visitors. If time permitted,
a second coating of varnish was applied : and this work, as well as all
that followed, was performed by men, chiefly sailors.
It is stated that the sadors seemed to be quite at home with their
work, painting, varnishing, weaving nets, twisting cables, and finally
taking charge of the balloon on its journey.
The use of sewing machines rendered the activity at the Northern
Station less remarkable, but these works also were full of interest.
The endless pieces of calico hanging from wooden rails, the numerous
work-people all busy with their needles, and the swollen shapes of
the nearly completed balloons, are said to have afforded an extra-
ordinary spectacle.
At the Northern Station the work-rooms were divided ; but at the
Orleans the enormous Salic dCattente was occupied, and the long row of
coloured fabrics — yellow, blue, black, and green — suspended from the
roof to dry, and occupying the midst of the immense nave, are
described by visitors as being strongly suggestive of the interior of
the Chapel of the Tnvalides.
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. ix
The balloons, which were constructed to contain about 70,000 cubic
feet, were generally inflated with ordinary coal-gas. The bags of
letters and despatches were firmly fixed outside the car. Higher up
was secured a cage containing carrier-pigeons, intended to bring back
news and replies to the outgoing letters.
I have endeavoured to learn some particulars about the pigeons
employed, but, owing to the disturbed state of Paris, I have obtained
but little information beyond that which has appeared in the news-
papers. E. W. Alldridge, Esq., of Charlton, however, informs me that
the pigeons used for the postal service during the siege were birds of
a composite race and of no particular breed ; their prominent charac-
teristics were those of the Antwerp strain, the Antwerp itself being
the produce of a variety of races of no intrinsic value.
In remarking that fancy pigeons may be produced of any colour or
mark, and almost of any variety of feather, Mr. Alldridge assures me,
from his own experience, that it is equally possible to regulate their
intellectual development, and that these birds can be produced with
different powers of orientation to meet the requirements of particular
cases. The bird required to make journeys under 50 miles would
materially differ in its pedigree from one capable of flying 5U0 or 600
miles. Attention in particular must be given to the colour of the eye :
if wanted for broad daylight, the bird known as the " Pearl-eye," from
its colour, should be selected, but if for foggy weather or for twilight
living, the black or blue-eye bird should receive the preference.
It can hardly, therefore, be matter of surprise that so many pigeons
failed to return to Paris.
It was necessary to resort to special methods of preparing the return
document which would have been otherwise too heavy and voluminous
for their power of carriage. Photography was equal to the occasion,
and long letters were reduced to within an area not exceeding one
or two square inches on paper of the thinnest texture. These slips
were sometimes rolled around the central feather of the bird's tail,
being firmly secured about the shaft towards its base; at other times
the despatches were wrapped around the legs of the bird ; but gene-
rally they were enclosed inside a quill, and fastened to the central
feather of the tail ; the central feather is chosen, because it remains
x PEE FACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.
unmoved •while its fellows radiate fan-like on either side during
the bird's flight On receiving these minute despatches they were
submitted to the microscope, enlarged, copied, and forwarded to their
destination.
Some of the pigeons returned on the day of departure, some
after two or three days, and others after long intervals. Several
returned, injured by birds of prey; a few were wounded by shots,
for the Germans were as anxious to prevent the pigeons returning
to Paris, as they were to stop the balloons leaving it. A great many
of the pigeons were never heard of. One bird which left Paris on the
12th of October from the Orleans Station, by the balloon Washington,
did not return till the 5th of December. The balloon itself took
a northerly direction, and crossed the Prussian outposts in the midst
of a well-sustained fire. The projectiles reached them at 2,500 and
3,000 feet, and the travellers did not feel secure until they had gained
a height of 3,500 feet. They met with the same reception at
Chantilly, Senlis, Compiegne, and Noyon. The enemy's fire ceased at
some distance from Ham. Towards half-past eleven the balloon
descended at Carriercs, near Cambrai, in the midst of a violent gale,
and the passengers were much hurt. The tables on pages xvi. to xx.,
containing the statistics and particulars of the departures of all the
balloons that left Paris during the siege, their size, &c, have been
most kindly furnished me by M. Jules Godard.
After the 20th of January MM. Godard removed from the Orleans to
the Eastern Railway Station, in consequence of the works at the latter
place having been damaged by Prussian shells, and one of the balloons
in course of construction injured. An examination of the tables
will show that after November 21 the ascents were at night. This
change was made with the view of avoiding the fire of the besiegers.
It was not, however, foreseen that the air is much calmer by night than
by day, and that consequently the balloon would make but little pro-
gress at night ; unfortunately, too, it was a ride estabbshed in Paris
that no light of any kind should be used in a balloon — not even a
Davy lamp — for fear of an explosion. It was therefore impossible to
read the barometer ; and in addition to the perils of these nocturnal
ascents, the voyagers had no idea of their rate of travelling or their
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. xi
distance from the earth. This arose from an error, for I had myself
used a Davy lamp and read all my instruments by its means at night ;
and when M. de Fonvielle left England, after his escape from Paris,
with the view of attempting to re-enter the city by means of a balloon,
I gave him a lamp which I had taken up several times previously
in my ascents, for the triple purpose of enabling him to read the
barometer, to warm his hands, and to heat coffee, with the assurance
of its perfect safety.
Dr. Janssen, charged with a scientific mission to Algeria by the
Government and the Academy of Sciences, for the purpose of observ-
ing the total eclipse of the Sun on December 22, left Paris December 2,
1870, at six o'clock in the morning, in the balloon Volta, of which
he took the management. He carried several dismounted telescopes,
packed with special care in such a manner as to prevent any
accidents in the descent.
The Volta rose at first to 3,600 feet by parting with ballast, and
afterwards by the action of the sun it rose by degrees to 7,200 feet,
from which height it descended on the completion of its voyage.
Dr. Janssen offers some remarks on the rise and height of his
balloon, and writes that, exposed to the full action of the sun's rays,
the "balloon itself became heated ; that this heat was in turn com-
municated to the gas inside, which readily absorbed the higher
temperature as gas absorbs, Dr. Janssen remarks, obscure heat more
readily than luminous heat. Under this action the gas became equal-
ized in temperature, and warm throughout as a solid body, leading
him to believe that at 3,600 feet the action of the sun is felt chiefly
through the medium of the envelope or material of the balloon, which
acts as a transformer of the solar force.
But it struck Dr. Janssen with surprise that at sunrise the balloon
fell, and rose again when the suu was several degrees above the horizon.
He explains these effects by the same principle : the power of the
sun on rising dissipated the mist, and increased the calmness of the
sky, while the envelope of the balloon radiating heat into space
became rapidly cooler, and was far from receiving as much heat from
the rising sun as it parted with by radiation. The result showed
xii PREFACE TO THE SECOXD EDITION.
itself in the cooling of the gas and consequent descent of the balloon.
Later on, the balloon rose high in the heavens, the gain was greater
than the loss, and the balloon continued to rise unchecked so long as
the temperature of the gas increased.
The Yalta passed above Chart res, Le Mans, and Chateau-Gontier.
The weather was very fine. Dr. Janssen marked the route by means of
a compass placed for this purpose. His descriptions of an instrument
for determining the speed and route of a balloon appear in Les
Comptcs Paulas dc I' 'Academic des Sciences de Paris, 27th February
and 13th March.
During the journey he had occasion to make various scientific
observations, in brief detail as follows : —
At lib. 15m. the sea was visible, and M. Janssen commenced the
descent, which took place without accident, although the wind on
the ground was very strong.
This fortunate result he attributes to the employment of a guide-
rope 980 feet in length, which moderated the fall and checked the
dragging.
At the time of landing the Vol fa was at Briche-Blanc, arron-
dissement of St. Nazaire, at the mouth of the Loire.
The balloon had travelled nearly 300 miles in five hours and
a quarter.
The instruments were found to be in perfect order, and the voyage
proves that it is possible to carry in a balloon delicate astronomical
instruments, if precautions are taken, as in this journey.
The siege of Paris gave a great impetus to all aerostatical inquiries;
and many attempts were made during the siege, in different parts
of the city, to steer balloons. The Western Railway Company lent
some of their rooms to be used for such experiments, and a part of
the manufactory at Cail was placed at the disposal of M. Vert, whose
invention was shown at the exhibition of the Aeronautical Society
at the Crystal Palace, a year or two since.
Of all these attempts, the most appreciated in Paris is that of
M. Dupuy de Lome, a shipbuilder, a practical man, and a mathe-
matician. The Government granted to this gentleman a sum of
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. xiii
£1,600, necessary to carry out his design, which is to make a balloon
in the form of a fish, furnished in the hack part with a sail like
a helm, and with a screw for propulsion. Within the balloon the
inventor proposes to place a spherical ball filled with air, similar to
the swimming bladder of a fish, in order to avoid any waste of gas,
and to assist in ascending and descending ; it would also keep the
balloon well filled. M. Dupuy de Lome considers that his balloon
will never struggle with the wind, but will move forward against the
pressure of the air current with the speed of five miles an hour,
and that six men, relieving one another, will be sufficient to turn
the wheel which puts the screw in motion.
For inflating the balloon hydrogen gas will be employed, and silk
is the material adopted for its outer casing. Great hopes have been
entertained in Paris, and may be still, that this invention of
M. Dupuy de Lome may help to solve the problem of Aerial
Navigation. I cannot affect to share in this expectation.
In England the subject of Aerostation has made but little progress,
and no valuable invention has arisen to facilitate travelling in the
air. In all my ascents I used the balloon as I found it. The desire
which influenced me was to ascend to the higher regions and travel
by its means in furtherance of a better knowledge of atmospheric
phenomena ; neither its management nor its improvement formed
a part of my plan. I soon found that balloon travelling was at
the mercy of the wind, and I saw no probability of any method
of steering balloons being obtained. It even appeared to me that
the balloon itself, admirable for vertical ascents, was not necessarily
a first step in Aerial Navigation, and might possibly have no share
in the solution of the problem. It was this conviction that led to
the formation of the Aeronautical Society a few years since, under
the presidency of the Duke of Argyll. In the number of com-
munications made to this Society, it is evident that many minds are
taxing their ingenuity to discover a mode of navigating the air ; all
kinds of imaginary projects have been suggested, some showing great
mechanical ingenuity, but all indicating the want of more knowledge
of the atmosphere itself. The first great aim of the Society is the
xiv PEE FACE TO THE SECOND EDITION
connecting the velocity of the air with its pressure on plane surfaces
at various inclinations.
There seems no prospect of obtaining this relation otherwise than
by a careful series of experiments. But little can be expected from
the mathematical theory ; it is a hundred and forty years since the
general differential equations of fluid motion were given to the world
by D'Alembert ; but although many of the greatest mathematicians
have attempted to deduce from them results of practical value, it
cannot be said that any great success has attended their efforts. The
progress made has been very slight in the case of water, where the
analysis is much simpler than for an elastic fluid like air ; and the
Theory of Besistances, which is the part of Hydromechanics which
has the most direct bearing on Aerial Navigation, is perhaps the part
of the subject about which least is known.
A good deal of attention has been paid to one subject, namely, the
resistance of the air to the motion of projectiles, and numerous
experiments, from the time of Halley to our own day, have been
made on this subject.
It needs but a slight acquaintance with these researches to appre-
ciate the difficulties of the investigation, which, on account of the
comparatively small size of the projectile and the great rapidity of
its motion, presents some features which render the inquiry some-
what more simple than the general investigation on which the
foundation of the science of Aerial Navigation must rest.
The Aeronautical Society have been endeavouring for some time to
organize a systematic series of experiments on the connection between
the pressure and velocity of air, and it is believed that these will
afford the only data on which a true science of Aeronautics can be
founded.
Even if the experiments should not advance Aeronautics as much
as there is every reason to expect, at all events they will yield results
not only of very high scientific interest, but also of practical value.
The siege of Paris is now a thing of the past, as are also the
balloon pigeon-posts; but the balloon has proved itself so great an
assistance to the French nation, that it will command attention and
l'HEFACE TO THE SECOND EDIT/OX.
xv
study which must be a source of great benefit to Aerial Navigation,
and verify, in one instance at least, the well-known saying, which
however is very far from being universally true, that Progress and
Invention spring limn the exigencies of war.
JAMES GLATSHElt.
March 1871.
JAMES C.I.AISTIKH, F, U.S.
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CONTENTS.
PART I.
AERIAL TRAVELS OF MR. GLAISHER.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION 1
CHAPTER I.
THE FIRST SCIENTIFIC ASCENTS IN ENGLAND 23
CHAPTER II.
MY FIRST ASCENT — WOLVERHAMPTON, JULY 17, 1862 33
CHAPTER III.
ASCENTS FROM WOLVERHAMPTON, AUG. 18 AND SEPT. 5, 1862 48
CHAPTER IV.
ASCENTS FROM THE CRYSTAL PALACE, ArRIL 18 AND JULY 11, 1863. . . 59
CHAPTER V.
ASCENT FROM WOLVERTON, JUNE 26, 1863 64
ASCENT FROM THE CRYSTAL PALACE, JULY 21, 1863 72
CHAPTER VI.
ASCENT FROM WINDSOR, MAY 29, 1866 74
CHAPTER VII.
OVER LONDON BY DAY, MARCH 31, 1863 78
OVER LONDON BY NIGHT, OCTOBER 2, 1865 80
xx ii CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VIII.
PAGE
DECREASE OF TEMPERATURE WITH ELEVATION S4
ANEROID BAROMETER I BLACKENED BULB THERMOMETER 90
LINES IN THE SPECTRUM : TIMES OF VIBRATION OF A MAGNET 91
DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS OF THE WIND \ VELOCITY OF THE WIND .... 92
PHYSIOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS : PROPAGATION OF SOUND 94
CHAPTER IX.
THE HIGH REGIONS 94
APPEARANCE OF THE EARTH VIEWED FROM A BALLOON 99
PART II.
TRAVELS OF M. C. FLAMMARION.
PRELIMINARY CHAPTER.
A SKETCH OF SCIENTIFIC BALLOONING FROM 1783 TO 1867 105
CHAPTER II.
MY FIRST AERIAL VOYAGE, ASCENSION DAY, 1867 122
CHAPTER III.
MY SECOND VOYAGE, 9TII JUNE, 1867 — DESCRIPTION OF THE BALLOON —
CONDITIONS OF SECURITY REQUIRED FOR AN AERIAL VOYAGE .... 132
CHAPTER IV.
HORNING ASCENT — THE BLUE SKY — THE RESPIRABLE ATMOSPHERE . . . 143
CHAPTER V.
A VOYAGE [3 TWO STAGES — EVENING : ST. CLOUD, VERSAILLES, DREIX.
NIGHT: VERNEUIL, LAIGLE, DESCENT INTO THE RIVER ORNE .... 157
CHAPTER VI.
FROM PARIS TO I.AP.OCIIEFOUCAULT-ANGOULEME— SIXTH VOYAGE .... 172
CONTENTS. xxiii
CHAPTER VII.
PAGE
ASCENT AT SUNSET 186
CHAPTER VII J.
rROM PARIS INTO PRUSSIA, BV ROCROI, A1X-LA-CHAPELLE, AND COLOGNE . V.fi
CHAPTER IX.
from paris into Prussia continued 206
CHAPTER X.
FROM THE CONSERVATOIRE DES ARTS ET METIERS TO THE GARDENS OF
BEAUGEXCY 217
PART III.
TRAVELS OF MM. FOXVIELLE AXD TISSANEIER.
CHAPTER I.
THE LAST VOYAGES OF THE " GIANT " 233
(W. tie Fonvielle.)
CHAPTER II.
THE CAPTIVE BALLOON AT THE EXHIBITION— THE FALLING STARS . . . 253
\V. <le Fonvielle.)
CHAPTER III.
THE " ENTREPREXANT " BALLOON— VOYAGE FROM PARIS TO FERRILRES . . 267
SECOND ASCENT — FROM PARIS TO COMPIEGXE 271
THIRD ASCENT — FROM PARIS TO COURCELLES (LOIP,ET) 282
(W. de Fonvielle.)
CHAPTER IV.
1IV DEBUT IN AEROSTATION — VOYAGE ABOVE THE NORTH SEA 290
(G Tissandier.)
xxiv CONTENTS.
CHAPTER V.
PAI E
FORTUNE AMi MISFORTUNE. — VOYAGE FROM THE CONSERVATOIRE .... 310
(W. de Fonvielle and G. Tissandier.)
CHAPTER VI.
SNOW AND SUNSET— ASCENT OF THE " UNION " 32!)
(G. Tissandier.)
CHAPTER VII.
WINDY ASCENTS AND DRAGGING 34<>
(W. de Fonvielle and G. Tissandier.)
CHAPTER VIII.
TWO HOURS OVER PARIS IN A CALM 355
(\V. de Fonvielle and G. Tissandier.)
CHAPTER IX.
THE GREAT " CAPTIVE " BALLOON AT LONDON 370
(\Y. de Fonvielle and G. Tissandier.)
CHAPTER X.
AN ASCENT FROM THE CHAMP DE MARS. — THE "NORTH POLE" BALLOON . 380
(AV. de Fonviello and G. Tissandier. |
CONCLUSION 39(5
LIST OF CHROMOLITHOGRAPHS.
To face puge
Mirage and Luminous Aureola Frontispiece.
(See p. 221 1.
A Thunderstorm above Fontainebleau, as seen from the Balloon 128
Falling Stars, as observed from the Balloon 262
Shadow and Luminous Effect, as seen from the Balloon 277
After Sunset, as seen from the Balloon 342
A Sunset, as seen from the Balloon 375
LIST OF LITHOGRAPHS.
To fan pagt
Path of the Balloon in its ascent from Wolverhampton to Langliam, July 17,
1862 43
Path of the Balloon in its ascent from Wolverhampton to Solihull, 18th
August, 1862 48
Path of the Balloon in its ascent from Wolverhampton to Cold Weston,
5th Sept., 1862 50
Path of the Balloon in its ascent from the Crystal Palace to Newhaven,
18th April, 1S63 60
Path of the Balloon in its ascent from Wolverton to Ely, 26th June, 1S63 . 64
Path of the Balloon in its ascent from the Crystal Palace to Epping Forest,
21st July, 1863 72
Path of the Balloon in its ascent from Windsor to near Pulborough, 29th
May, 1866 74
Path of the Balloon over London (at night), 2nd October, 1865 80
Temperature of the Air at different heights, 6th April, 1864 86
Course of the Balloon in M. Flammarion's ascent from Paris to Laroche-
foucault, June 23-24, 1867 178
Course of the Balloon in M. Flammarion's ascent from Paris to Soliugen,
in Prussia, July 14-15, 1867 199
Double Balloon Ascent of M. G. Tissandier, 8th November, 1868 .... 338
LIST OF WOODCUTS.
PAET I.
AERIAL TRAVELS OF MR. GLAISHER.
PAGE
Portrait of James Glaisher, F.R.S xv
Ascent of Mont Blanc 1
Mr. Glaisher in the car 23
Green falls into the .sea 25
Blanchard's car 32
The balloon forming a parachute 33
The instruments of Mr. Glaisher arranged in the car 39
Shadow of the balloon on the clouds 45
Above the clouds 47
" We passed through a magnificent cumulus cloud " 48
Beneath a beautiful mass of cumulus clouds 51
Mr. Glaisher insensible at the height of seven miles 55
The pigeons 58
The departure 59
Descent at Newhaven 63
Between two clouds, four miles high 64
Three miles high : " Clouds below us, others on our level at a distance, and
yet more above " .* 65
" Rain fell pattering on the balloon " 69
Nimbi, or rain-clouds, above four miles high 73
The descent 74
The cottage 77
Filling a balloon 78
The suburbs of London in the distance 83
" The moon was shining, but seemed to give no light " 84
" After a time the moon shone with increased brightness " 93
The rainbow 94
" The sun rose, flooding with light the whole extent of cloudland beyond " . . 97
Charles and De Saussure 10.1
xxviii LIST OF WOODCUTS.
PART II.
TRAVELS OF C. FLAMMARION.
PAUE
The instruments 105
C. Flanimarion 107
The sun reflected by tho clouds 121
The adieu 122
We touch the top of the trees 131
Leaving Paris in a balloon 132
The Seine and the Marne, as seen from the car in M. Flamniarion's second
ascent 137
Captive ascent at Barbison 142
Butterflies hovering round the car of the balloon 143
" Absolute silence reigns supreme in all its sad majesty " 149
" It is the Devil himself ! " 156
" They are drowned ! " 157
A moonlight effect as seen from the balloon by M. Flanimarion 163
" But the sceptre of the night is held by Jupiter " 167
A descent among a herd of cattle 171
"The lights of the evening fires were seen in the distant villages" 172
" The sun appears like an immense beacon-light, placed upon layers of snow" . 175
" These fires seen from a distance were like lighthouses " 181
The Chateau of Larochefoucault 185
" Your passports, gentlemen ! " 186
The river Seine and the west of Paris — a view from the car of the balloon . 189
The statue of Napoleon as seen from on high 196
Rain in the higher regions 197
Lunar halo observed by M. Flanimarion (night of 14-15th July, 1867) . . . 203
A glance into space below, at night 205
The banks of the Meuse 206
" The moon shines forth with peculiar brilliancy " 209
" The orb of day has just appeared, and its golden disc rises among the purple
clouds" 213
The satellite balloons 216
Ascent of M. Flanimarion from the garden of the Conservatoire 217
Optical phenomenon observed by M. Flanimarion 229
PART III.
TRAVELS OF MM. FONVIELLE AND TISSAXD1EH.
The " Giant " balloon and the " Imperial" balloon 233
W. de Fonvielle 235
" The new-comers fall, pell-mell, one over the other" 243
"' It's the Giant smoking his pipe,' said some one" 249
LIST OF WOODCUTS. xxix
PAGE
Breakfast in the car of the " Giant " 252
Inflation of the captive balloon at the Exhibition 253
" The crows seem frightened at us, and presently fly off precipitately "... 259
The peat bogs of La Somme, as seen from the car of the " Swallow "... 263
" A peasant succeeds in climbing up to us " 267
" The fixity of the snow-like wreaths of vapour was really very striking " . . 273
Effect produced by a vault of clouds 285
The valve of the " Entreprenant " balloon 289
Calais as seen through the clouds from the balloon 290
Gaston Tissandier 293
Mirage in the sky, as seen from the balloon 299
Sunset whilst the balloon is at sea 303
Descent of the "Neptune" at Cape Gris-Nez 307
Direction of the aerial currents above Calais, August 17, 1868 309
The " Neptune" in the clouds 310
The " Neptune " at the Conservatoire 311
Circular effect of the clouds 317
" The balloon has burst I " 323
The " Captive " balloon of Paris 328
Departure from the gasworks of La Villette 329
" We rise slowly amidst the snow " 331
" A few vigorous arms lift up the car " 335
" In one bound we pass through the thick layer of cloud " 339
" We fell softly to the ground in a field " 343
The " Union " balloon in the snow 345
"The ' Swallow' balloon, when inflated, lay down upon its side" 346
" The branches of the trees bent beneath the car " 347
Return of the aeronauts 351
Dragging 355
Interior of the " Union" balloon inflated with air 357
The Seine, as seen from the balloon above Asnieres 361
Descent of the "Union" balloon in the Cemetery of Clichy 365
Inflation of the balloon with a ventilator 369
Construction of the " Captive " balloon of London 370
The weighing machine of the " Captive " 371
The pulley 371
View of the " Captive " balloon at London 373
Sunset above the Thames, as seen from the " Captive " balloon 377
The car of the " Captive " balloon 379
The " North Pole " balloon in the air 380
The valve of the " North Pole " balloon 384
" The balloon began to bend over " 389
"Thousands of peasants came from great distances to see us " 393
The car of the " North Pole " balloon 395
PART I.
AERIAL TRAVELS OF MR. GLAISHER.
ASCENT OF MONT BLANC.
TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
INTRODUCTION.
1 have elsewhere expressed my opinion that the Balloon should be
received only as the first principle of some aerial instrument which
remains to be suggested. In its present form it is useless for
commercial enterprise, and so little adapts itself to our necessities
that it might drop into oblivion to-morrow, and we should miss
nothing from the conveniences of life. But we can afford to wait,
for already it has done for us that which no other power ever accom-
plished ; it has gratified the desire natural to us all to view the earth
in a new aspect, and to sustain ourselves in an element hitherto the
exclusive domain of birds and insects. We have been enabled to
ascend among the phenomena of the heavens, and to exchange con-
jecture for instrumental facts, recorded at elevations exceeding the
highest mountains of the earth.
Doubtless among the earliest aeronauts a disposition arose to
estimate unduly the departure gained from our natural endowments,
and to forget that the new faculty we had assumed, while opening
the boundless regions of the atmosphere as fresh territory to explore,
was subject to limitations a century of progress might do little to
extend. In the time of Lunardi. a lady writing to a friend about a
B
Tit A VELS IN THE AIR
lull loon voyage slie had recently made, expresses the common feeling
of that day when she says that " the idea that I was daring enough
to push myself, as I may say, before my time, into the presence of
the Deity, inclines me to a species of terror " — an exaggerated senti-
ment, prompted by the admitted hazard of the enterprise (for Pilatre
de Kozier had lately perished in France, precipitated to the earth by
the bursting of his balloon), or dictated by an exultant and almost
presumptuous sense of exaltation : for the first voyagers in the air,
reminded by no visible boundary that for a few miles only above
the earth can we respire, appear to have forgotten that the height to
which we can ascend and live has so definite a limitation.
But no method more simple could have been imagined than that
by which the aeronaut ascends, and which leaves the observer entire
freedom to note the phenomena by which he is surrounded. "With
the ease of an ascending vapour he rises into the atmosphere, carried
by the imprisoned gas, which responds with the alacrity of a sentient
being to every external circumstance, and lends obedience to the
slightest variation of pressure, temperature, or humidity. The balloon
when full and on the earth, with a strong wind, is vehemently
agitated, and if a stiff breeze prevail during the progress of inflation,
it is for the time almost ungovernable. When prepared for flight
it offers the greatest powers of resistance to mechanical control, and,
bent on soaring upwards, struggles impatiently to be free.
In a line of perpendicular ascent the balloon has a motion of its
own. It therefore rises or falls according to the action of the
atmosphere upon the imprisoned gas. The second motion, which,
united to the first, carries the balloon out of the perpendicular line
on rising, and directs its onward motion in a plane, is not inherent in
the balloon, but is due to the external force of horizontal currents
which sweep it in the direction of their course, and communicate a
compound motion we can neither direct nor calculate. The simple
inherent motion we can repeat at will.
I believe the most timorous lose their sense of fear as the balloon
ascends and the receding earth is replaced by the vapours of the air ;
and I refer this confidence chiefly, as has been suggested, to the con-
sciousness of isolation by which the balloon traveller feels more like
a part of the machine above than of the world below. Thus situated,
he is induced to forget the imperfections of the machine in witnessing
the close accordance of its movements with those of the surrounding
clouds. The balloon strives to attain a height where it may rest in
equilibrium with the air in which it floats ; its ascent is checked by
allowing gas to escape by the valve, and by the weight of ballast, but
iXTRonrt'Tiox.
facilitated by keeping the gas in and discharging the ballast. These
are the methods by which it is made to rise or fall at the will
of the aeronaut, and the only objection to the frequent employ-
ment of the valve and the use of ballast is to be found in the greatly
abbreviated life of the balloon and too rapid diminution of its powers
which follow.
Up to the time of the Balloon we bad no means of ascending by
which we could test the conditions of the atmosphere for even a mile
above the surface of the earth, apart from the terrestrial influences
and the inevitable labour of ascending the mountain side. "When,
therefore, Messrs. Charles and Robert made their first ascent, and
recorded the history of their sensations and the conditions of the
atmosphere at various elevations, as the natural incidents and circum-
stances of their voyage, a practical application of the Balloon was
thus spontaneously suggested.
Before Gay-Lussac solicited the French Government for the use of
the balloon in which he ascended to the height of 23,000 feet, M. de
Saussure, of Geneva, had alone made observations at a height of
15,000 feet and upwards ; a distinction he had won by accomplishing
the desire of his life, and ascending to the summit of Mont Blanc.
This memorable journey De Saussure performed in the summer of
1787, four years after the first balloon ascent of Messrs. Robert and
Charles in a hydrogen balloon from Paris, and seventeen years before
Gay-Lussac made his ascent for the advancement of science. The
weather was favourable, and the snow compact and hard. Accom-
panied by his servant and eighteen guides, De Saussure began his
journey. There was no difficulty or danger in the early part of tl e
ascent, their footsteps being either on the grass or the rock itself.
After six hours' incessant climbing, they found themselves 0,000 feet
above the village of Chamouni, from which they started, and 9, 500
feet above the level of the sea. At this height, the same to which
M. Robert had attained in his balloon, De Saussure and his party
prepared to encamp, and slept under a tent on the edge of the
glacier of the Montague de la Cote. By noon the next day they
were 2,000 feet above the level of perpetual frost. In the afternoon,
after eight hours of climbing, they had arrived at an elevation of
13,300 feet above the level of the sea. They were now on the second
of the three tremendous steppes which extend from 800 to 1,300 feet
each between Les Grands Mulets and the summit of Mont Blanc.
On the second of Les Mulets, De Saussure intended to pass the night.
The guides dug out the snow for their lodging, and threw some straw
into the bottom of the pit, across which they stretched a tent. Their
B 2
TRAVELS JX THE All!.
water was frozen, and they had hut a small charcoal brazier, which
proved quite insufficient to melt snow for twenty persons. When
morning came, they prepared again for departure. The cold was
excessive, but before breakfast could be obtained it was necessary to
melt the snow which also served for the water in their journey to
come. They crossed the great ice plain, or Grand Plateau, without
difficulty ; but the rarefaction of the air began to affect their lungs,
and this inconvenience continued to increase at every step. A pro-
longed rest was made in holies of recruiting their forces, but with
little advantage. They had not gone a dozen steps before they were
compelled to halt to recover breath, and in this manner, slowly and
with great toil and discomfort, the summit was reached.
"At last," writes De Saussure, " I had arrived at the long-wished-
for end of my desires. As the principal points in the view had been
before my eyes for the last two hours of this distressing climb, almost
as they would appear from the summit, my arrival was by no means
a coup de theatre ; it did not even give me the pleasure that one
might imagine. My keenest impression was one of joy at the cessa-
tion of all my troubles and anxieties : for the prolonged struggle and
the recollection of the sufferings this victory had cost me produced
rather a feeling of irritation. At the very instant that I stood upon
the most elevated point of the summit, I stamped my foot on it more
with a sensation of anger than pleasure. Besides, my object was not
only to reach the crown of the mountain : I had to make such obser-
vations and experiments as alone would give any value to the enter-
prise, and I was afraid I should only be able to accomplish a portion
of my intentions. I had already found out, even on the plateau
where we slept, that every careful observation in such a rarefied
atmosphere is fatiguing, because the breath is held unconsciously ;
and as the tenuity of the air is obliged to be compensated for by the
frequency of respiration, this suspended breathing causes a sensible
feeling of uneasiness. I was compelled to rest and pant as much,
alter regarding one of my instruments attentively, as after having
mounted one of the steepest slopes/'
De Saussure spent three hours and a half in observations, and after
four hours passed on the summit, began with his party to descend.
They passed the night on Les Mulets, the third since they left
Chamouni, and De Saussure writes : " We supped merrily together
and with famous appetites. It was not until then that 1 really felt
pleased at having accomplished the wish of twenty-seven years. At
the moment of my reaching the summit I did not feel really satisfied.
1 was less so when 1 left it : 1 only reflected then upon what 1 had
IXTHODUCTIOX.
not done. But in the stillness of the night, after having recovered
from my fatigue, when I went over the observations I had made;
when especially I retraced the magnificent expanse of the mountain
peaks, which I had carried away engraven in my mind ; and when I
thought T might accomplish on the Col de (leant what most assuredly
I should never do on Mont Blanc, I enjoyed a true and unalloyed
satisfaction." The simple narrative of this eminent man is through-
out a commentary upon the use of the Balloon for the purpose of
vertical ascent. To lie carried up with speed and certainty at any
number of feet per minute, with instruments complete and carefully
prepared for observation, the observer seated as calmly as in his
observing room at home, are advantages which speak for themselves.
The ohservations of to-day can be repeated to-morrow, and succes-
sively throughout the seasons of the year, and at different hours of
the day; and the importance of this repetition is rendered clear
by considering of what slight value is a single set of observations,
whether in meteorology or any other branch of inquiry, except to
appease curiosity, and how little gain to science is one isolated day's
experience; and yet to ascend Mont Blanc was the one great fact of
J )e Saussure's life.
The view which oilers itself to an aeronaut seated conveniently
in the car' of a balloon is far more extended than any the eye can
embrace within its scope from the summit of a lofty mountain, [t
is gained without fatigue, hut then there is no succession of magni-
ficent scenery which compensates for the toil of the Alpine traveller,
and suggests a variety of ohservations unknown to the voyager of the
atmosphere. To the latter, situated at a heighl above the earth,
separated from all communication with it, the scenery on its surface
is dwarfed to a level plane, and the whole country appears like a
prodigious map spread out beneath his feet. Better than the Alpine
traveller he can trace the history of physiological sensations, and
pursue the ohservations of meteorology. In the one case he travels
tree from the effects of muscular exertion, which makes fatigue so
formidable in the higher regions of the earth's scenery, and, apart
from all terrestrial influences of soil and temperature, scans the true
conditions of the atmosphere.
On looking into the annals of aerostation, 1 do not find that balloon
travellers in general have cared to ascend beyond the height to which
De Saussure attained on the summit of Mont Blanc, and the greater
number of ascents are within this limit, Most aeronauts have taken
care to keep well within recognition of the visible scenery of the
earth, and would seem to have been too eager to enjoy the privilege
6 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
of movement, and the varied prospect in any direction they could
travel, to wish to prove their capacity for vertical ascents. We have
few reliable observations to a great height. High ascents have now
and then been attempted by professional aeronauts eager to gain the
attention of the public and enlist its sympathy in their results.
Voyages in illuminated balloons by night, in weather not always
suitable, were performed successively by M. Blanchard, and after
him by M. (larnerin, who preceded the late Mr. Green. Beyond the
passing sensation of the moment, recorded in the public prints of the
day, their ascents have left no permanent trace in the history of the
Balloon. The ascent made by M. Charles, after a joint expedition
of Messrs. Charles and Robert, is the first experience of value we
have to compare with others. It was, we may suppose, the first
occasion on which sunset was witnessed a second time in the same
day by any living mortal.
On December 1, 1783, having descended and landed his companion,
M. Charles determined to ascend alone. It was towards sunset, and
ballast could not be readily procured. Without waiting, therefore,
JV1. Charles gave the signal to the peasants, who were holding his
machine, to let go ; " and I sprang," says M. Charles, " like a bird into
the air. In twenty minutes I was 1,500 toises high, out of sight of
terrestrial objects. The globe, which had been flaccid, swelled in-
sensibly ; I drew the valve from time to time, but still continued to
ascend. For myself, though exposed to the open air, I passed in ten
minutes from the warmth of spring to the cold of winter : a sharp,
dry cold, but not too much to be borne. In the first moment I felt
nothing disagreeable in the change. In a few minutes my fingers
were benumbed by the cold, so that I could not hold my pen. I was
now stationary as to rising and tailing, and moved only in a horizontal
direction. I rose up in the middle of the car to contemplate the
scenery around me. When I left the earth, the sun had set on the
valleys ; he now rose for me alone ; he presently disappeared, and I
had the pleasure of seeing him set twice on the same day. I beheld
for a few seconds the circumambient air, and the vapours rising from
the valleys and rivers. The clouds seemed to rise from the earth, and
collect one upon the other, still preserving their usual form, only
their colour was grey and monotonous from the want of light in the
atmosphere. The moon alone enlightened them, and showed me that
I had changed my direction twice. Presently I conceived, perhaps a
little hastily, the idea of being able to steer my course. In the midst
of my delight I felt a violent pain in my right ear and jaw, which
I ascribed to the dilatation of the air in the cellular construction ot
INTRODUCTION.
those organs as much as to the cold of the external air. I was i.i a
waistcoat and bare-headed ; I immediately put on a woollen cap, yet
the pain did not go off till I gradually descended."
M. de Meusnier made various calculations as to the height attained
by M. Charles, and calculated it to have been at least 9,000 feet.
The temperature at the time of starting was 47° on the earth, but in
ten minutes had descended to 21°. When M. Charles came down and
landed his companion, they were met by the Due de Chartres and
some French noblemen, who had followed on horseback for twenty
miles the course of the balloon. A contemporary pamphlet records
the particulars of the ascents, and has a postscript to the effect that
Messrs. Charles and Robert were arrested on returning to Paris, by
order of the King, who, at the suggestion of two of his ecclesiastics,
adopted this course to prevent the further endangering the lives of his
subjects. " But," adds the writer of the pamphlet, "as great interest
is making for them, it is thought they will speedily be discharged."
The height to which M. Charles ascended was thought to be
enormous. There had been nothing like it before, and this, the first
essay of the hydrogen balloon, brought it at once into public favour
and notice. The same elevation, attained one year and ten months
later upon the mountain side, made De Saussure console himself
under failure, with the thought that he had made more valuable
barometric observations and had been higher than any other traveller
in Europe. On this occasion he had attempted to ascend Mont
ISlanc; but the route to the summit remained undiscovered, and after
journeying for a day his party were forced to return. Passing the
night at an elevation of 9,000 feet, within the walls of a rude hut
which had been constructed for the expedition, De Saussure gained
his first impressions of these elevated regions. Two mattresses had
been deposited within the hut, and an open parasol set against the
entrance formed the door. De Saussure says : " As night came on,
the sky was completely pure and cloudless ; the stars, brilliant
indeed, but unscintillating, cast a pale light over the summit of the
mountain peaks, sufficient to define their size and distance. The
repose and dead silence which reigned in this immeasurable space,
increased by the imagination, inspired me almost with terror. It
appeared as though I was left living alone in the world, and that I
saw its corpse at my feet. I either slept lightly and calmly, or my
thoughts were so bright and peaceful I was sorry to slumber. "When
the parasol was not before the door 1 could see from my bed the snow,
the ice, and the rocks below the cabin, and the rising of the moon
gave the most singular appearance to the view." Some of the party
8 TRAVELS IN THE A III
who shared the luit with I)e Saussure suffered greatly from the
rarefaction of the air, and could not eat anything. The next
morning, after an hour's climb, they were forced to return. The
snow was soft, and they encountered treacherous drifts and blocks
of ice. De Saussure therefore with reluctance abandoned his
attempt, the last which was made before the discovery of the true
mute to the summit
Whether by mountain ascents or balloon voyages, the traveller
who quits the ordinary level 'of the earth for the upper regions finds
two inevitable conditions presented to his endurance, arising respec-
tively from the gradual loss of heat, and the tenuity of the atmo-
sphere. The effects of these conditions will differ, we may assume,
with every individual, but certainly are more uniform in their relation
to the occupant of a balloon car, who is spared the necessity of exer-
tion and consequent fatigue, than the effects of similar conditions
upon a mountain traveller, who, to attain a height to which the
aeronaut can ascend in an hour, is subjected to the continuous toil of
two successive days, devoted to an ascent which is granted only to
a certain degree of strength and activity; for of those wdio have
attempted to reach the summit of Mont Blanc, many have failed
tin (nigh physical inability to endure fatigue. The test, therefore, of
the rigorous severity of the upper regions has been experienced by
those chiefly of more than average physique, men equal to the toil,
and who have kept themselves in previous training for. the severe
exercise involved in the undertaking. But the aeronaut enters upon
his expedition unprepared, and attains an elevation not dependent on
his physical strength. To this cause, probably, balloon voyages under
apparently similar circumstances of elevation show results by no
means uniform : a fact which has provoked severe criticism, and has
been supposed to arise from the vanity of individuals wishing to
prove their experiences greater than those of others. I should be
sorry to have to be the champion of all the marvellous histories that
have been related ; but on looking over a collection of narratives
from 1783 to 1835, including the principal aerostatic voyages per-
formed in England, Italy, and France, 1 believe that, as a rule, authors
have written their true experiences, and have correctly recorded their
impressions. Aeronauts by trade may at times have been guilty of
exaggeration, but the tyro who ascends once and never again is most
likely to make demands upon our credulity. It happens thus — that
the diminished pressure of the air, and the unfamiliar circumstances
of his position, act with far greater force upon an individual who
ascends for the first time than ever afterwards. This' I can attest,
INTRODUCTION. 9
having ascended without the slightest inconvenience to a height
which used to produce discomfort, and even discoloration of the hands
and lace, until at length I became so acclimatized to the effects
of a more rarefied atmosphere, that I could breathe at an elevation
of four miles at least above the earth without inconvenience, and
I have no doubt that this faculty of acclimatization might be so
developed as to have a very important bearing upon the philo-
sophical uses of balloon ascents. At six and seven miles high,
I experienced the limit, of our power of breathing in the attenuated
atniosjfhere. More frequent experiments would increase this height,
I have little doubt, and artificial appliances might be contrived
to continue it higher still. A boundary must exist, but I have
little hesitation in saying that it might be removed beyond its
present limit. To the terrestrial traveller the conditions of dimi-
nished heat and increased tenuity of atmosphere present themselves
in the light of problems which have more relation to the influences
of the earth than of the atmosphere. Clinging to the earth at every
step, and completing his journey upon the highest point of his ter-
restrial pinnacle, he cannot clear his observations from the influences
of the earth; or mark the gradual diminution of temperature con-
jointly with the amount and degree of cloud present, and estimate,
by repeated observations, the extent to which the latter serves as a
radiating screen to keep back the heat of the earth within the limits
of the lower atmosphere. He cannot mark the fluctuations of tem-
perature through which he rises on a fine but cloudy day, and make
them comparable with others taken during cloudless ascents, with
no local disturbing causes present to interfere with the law of a
decreasing temperature with increase of height. These belong to the
balloon voyager alone.
As a rule, the toil of a terrestrial ascent has induced the painful
sensations of a rarefied air at an elevation where the aeronaut would
have sat at ease, with little or but trifling inconvenience. Thus, at
the height to which M. Charles ascended and felt but a slight pain
in the muscles of his face and discomfort in his ears, M. Bouret, the
friend of De Saussure, suffered so keenly that he was compelled to
descend. At a height of three miles I never experienced any annoy-
ance or discomfort; yet there is no ascent, I think, of Mont Blanc
in which great inconvenience and severe pain have not been felt at
a height of 13,000 feet; but then, as before remarked, this is an
elevation attained only after two successive days of toil. About this
elevation, Dr. Hamel and his party, having passed the Grand Plateau,
speak of incessant thick and laboured respiration. They returned,
10 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
however, without reaching the summit, appalled by the catastrophe
of an avalanche of snow, which hurried three of the guides into the
frightful depths of a crevasse on the ascending slope of Le Mont
Maudit This fatal attempt was made in the early part of the present
century, Dr. Hamel being anxious to make the ascent in furtherance
of some especial observations taken in compliance with instructions
received from the Emperor of llussia. Later still, the same ground
was passed over by a party including Sir Francis Talfourd and his
son. The effects of cold and diminished pressure are clearly shown
in the narrative which is elsewhere published. " Tbe line ^>f our
inarch," observes Sir Francis, " lay up long slopes of snow ascending
in a steep inclination before us. There was nothing to vary the toil
ox the pain, except that, as fatigue crept on, and nature began to
discriminate between the stronger and the weaker, our line was no
longer continuous, but broken into parties. The rarity of the atmo-
sphere now began to affect us, and as the disorder arising from this
cause was more impartial than the distribution of muscular activity,
our condition was for a time almost equalized. Violent nausea and
headache were experienced by one of our party, while I only felt, in
addition to the distress of increasing weakness, the taste or scent of
blood in the mouth, as if it were about to burst from the nostrils.
We thus reached the Grand Plateau, a long field of snow in the bosom
of the highest pinnacles of the mountain."
Until the aeronaut shall have found means to ascend beyond the
present limit, he will, I believe, feel no sensation of cold so painful as
that of the Alpine traveller. At the extreme height to which 1 have
ascended, the lowest temperature was 12° below zero, or 4-4° below
the freezing-point of water. The cold was intense, but not painfully
severe, and no amount of suffering was experienced from this cause ;
of five pigeons taken up, but one perished. All authorities agree
that cold, however intense, is supportable under a calm temperature,
whereas a moderate degree of cold with a fresh breeze, or the slightest
air stirring, produces the sensation of a very low temperature. The
balloon voyager, who feels no wind because he always travels with it,
and when sweeping along with the speed of an express train yet meets
no current as he cleaves the air and knows no motion, can bear the
cold to which he is subjected with little demand on his power of
endurance. It is true he is condemned to immovability and to vicis-
situdes of cold both dry and wet, but these extremes can be guarded
against by due precautions of fur and warm clothing. During the
period of his voyage the aeronaut may create defence enough against
the fluctuations of the atmosphere.
INTRODUCTION. 11
The subject of cold, physiologically considered with regard to our
own sensations, M. Martins has ably treated in his essay, " Du Froid
thermometrique et de ses Relations avec le Froid physiologique," on
plains and mountains. " Of those who suffer death from cold," M.
Martins writes, " let us suppose a single traveller, or a small caravan,
wishing to cross one of the ' Cols' covered with eternal snow which
lead from Valais to Piedmont, or from France to Spain. It is winter,
or the commencement of spring, or the end of autumn. The journey
is long, the time uncertain. The voyagers are not perfectly acquainted
with the country. They set out. The sky is covered with cloud,
which descends little by little, and envelops them in a thick mist.
They walk in the snow, in the track of those travellers who have
preceded them ; but soon other traces cross those by which they guide
themselves, or a recent fall of snow has obliterated every mark. They
stop, hesitate, return upon their steps, turn themselves sometimes to
the right, sometimes to the left, always making for a summit; they
can scarcely see through the fog and mist. The snow begins to fall,
not flaky as on the plains, but granulated, dry, and like hail. Driven
by the wind it penetrates to the skin through the strongest vestments ;
striking incessantly the face, it produces a permanent giddiness which
soon becomes vertigo. Then the poor traveller, worried, harassed, and
not seeing two steps before him, feels an irresistible desire to sleep.
He knows that sleep is death ; but, lost and despairing, he seeks some
rock, and abandoning himself lies down to rise no more. His pulse
declines as in a lethargy, and he dies of cold, as one dies of inanition.
Moral energy in these moments is the only means of safety. It is
necessary at all risks to combat sleep, to walk, to defend oneself
against the cold by muscular exercise."
" Jacques Balmat, who was the first to make the ascent of Mont
Blanc," observes M. Martins, "knew it well. He was left alone
on the Grand Plateau. There he was surprised by night : to mount
to the summit was impossible ; to redescend in the obscurity equally
impossible. He took his post valiantly, and walked about the snow
till morning." This man was a native of Chaniouni, and had accom-
panied the party of Dr. Paccard. Being, it is supposed, at the time
unpopular among his comrades, he had been neglected by them during
the ascent : when they decided to return he had lost sight of them,
and his companions, either forgetful of him or determined to descend
without him, had returned upon their steps, and he found himself, at
an elevation of 14,000 feet, abandoned in the midst of a blinding
storm of snow, without food, and but poorly clad. Half dead from
the piercing cold, his limbs numbed by the labours he had undergone,
12 TRAVELS IN THE Alii.
the poor fellow passed this terrible night as best he could. When
morning dawned, Balmat decided upon his part ; his feet were frost-
bitten and had lost all sensation ; but his limbs, benumbed and
paralysed, he resolved should carry him to the summit never before
attained. Alone he accomplished that which had been denied his
treacherous comrades. Alone he traversed the untrodden fields of
snow, climbed hitherto inaccessible slopes of ice, and forced his way
to the summit by a route but little changed up to the present time.
That evening he returned to his village, and, prostrate and despairing
of his life, submitted himself to the services of Dr. Paccard, the
physician of Chamouni. After an illness of several weeks, in
gratitude to the doctor he revealed to him in confidence his secret;
and when Balmat was sufficiently recovered, he and Paccard made
the first ascent together. They were delighted with their success,
and wrote at once to De Saussure at Geneva, who immediately
ordered an equipment of mules and guides, to be accompanied and
attended by porters and attendants. With the first favourable op-
portunity of the season, De Saussure made his celebrated ascent, as
we have related, Jacques Balmat being appointed chief of the
troop of guides. This is the popular narrative, and to his moral
energy alone Balmat owed his preservation from death on the night
that he was exposed to the piercing and insidious cold of so great
an elevation.
A very rapid descent is productive of inevitable discomfort. To
this cause probably M. liobert owed the severe pain and inconvenience
he experienced at 9,000 feet. The year following, Messrs. Charles and
Eobert ascended to a height of 14,000 feet. In March 1784, M.
Blanchard, the celebrated French aeronaut, made his first ascent from
Paris ; he mounted high above the clouds, and attained the elevation
of 9, GOO feet. There is no mention in either case of personal incon-
venience. Messrs. Morveau and Bertrand ascended from Dijon in
April 1784, when they attained the height of 13,000 feet, and travelled
eighteen miles in twenty-five minutes. The temperature of the air
descended to 25°. In June 1784, M. Pleurand and Madame Thible
ascended at Lyons in a very large fire-balloon, named Le Gklstave,
before the King of Sweden. They reached the height of 8,500 feet,
and travelled only two miles in forty-five minutes. In Signor
Lunardi's balloon, Mrs. Sage ascended with Mr. Biggin from London ;
in kneeling down to secure the fastenings of the network in the
opening of the gallery, the lady broke the barometer, and they
had no measure therefore of the height to which they ascended.
It was, however, considerable.
INTRODUCTION. 13
In July 1784, M. Robert ascended from Paris with the Due de
Chartres and other gentlemen. Within the hydrogen balloon was
enclosed a smaller one, filled with common air. They ascended to a
height of 5,100 feet, and were greatly beaten about by an eddy or
revolving current. The gas expanded ; they had no valve, and the
inner balloon choked up the aperture of the neck and permitted no
escape. In this dilemma, at the mercy of a whirlwind, they decided
to make a rent in the outer covering. The Due de Chartres himself
took one of the banners and made two holes in the balloon, which
formed an aperture between seven and eight feet in length. The gas
escaped in volumes through the open rents, and they came down with
great velocity, but no one was injured.
In September 1784, Signor Vincenzo Lunardi ascended, taking with
him one small thermometer. He attained no considerable elevation.
In January 1785, M. Blanchard and Dr. Jeffries crossed the Channel
in a hydrogen balloon from Dover to Calais. From some defect in the
gas, or deficiency in its amount, far from being affected by the rarity pf
the air, they could with difficulty keep themselves at a level above the
sea, and to do so were obliged to part with everything in the car, and
even take oft" their clothes and throw them overboard. As they neared
the land, however, the balloon rose, and, describing a magnificent arch,
carried them over the high ground surrounding Calais, and finally
landed them in the Forest of Cuiennes. On July 22, Signor Lunardi
ascended from Liverpool. The process of filling the balloon was
tedious, and the imparience of the populace made it necessary to
ascend before the process of inflation could be properly performed.
He therefore found himself with barely enough rising power to carry
him, and without ballast of any kind ; so that when after being be-
calmed he was gently wafted towards the sea, he had not ballast to
throw out to enable him to rise and meet some other current. When
suspended over the sea, to lighten his weight he threw down his hat,
upon which the balloon rose, and the thermometer fell 3°. The
Lalloon entered a cloud, and, with the thermometer at 50°, Lunardi
wus surprised at finding himself surrounded with a shower of snow.
Being desirous to ascend higher, he threw down his banner, and shortly
after took off his coat (the uniform of the Honourable Artillery Com-
pany) and threw it away. He then rose majestically, and bore towards
the land. Ten minutes later he perceived a thunder-cloud and signs
of a gathering storm. To pass from its vicinity he threw down his
waistcoat. The temperature had fallen to 32°, and five minutes later
fell to 27°; the snow had melted on the top of his balloon, and had
trickled down in the form of water. It was now concealed in the
14 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
colder temperature, and hung in icicles round the neck of the balloon ;
he shook off about a pound's weight, and it fell upon the floor of the
gallery, Lunardi looking upon it as the ballast of Providence. The
temperature descended to 2G°. He now began to descend. It was
three minutes to seven, and six minutes after he was safely landed in
a cornfield about twelve miles from Liverpool. Here we have a
practical commentary upon the necessity of a proper freight of ballast,
and of a nicely regulated equilibrium between the balloon and sur-
rounding atmosphere before starting. In the month preceding, M.
Pilatre de Rozier and M. Romain had made their last and fatal voyage
from Boulogne. The balloon employed was compound, a small fire-
balloon being appended to a hydrogen balloon above. The one set
fire to the other, and the aeronauts were precipitated to the earth
and killed.
In the beginning of the next century the name of M. Garnerin
is closely associated with Balloon history, and replaces that of M.
Mlanehard. He is chiefly memorable for night ascents with an illu-
minated balloon. On July 5, 1802, M. Garnerin ascended from
Marylebone; the wind was high, but he rose to a height of 7,800
feet, and descended at Chingford, near Epping Forest. His fame as
an aeronaut was considerable, and his popularity about this time
was at its culminating point with the people of the metropolis, who
were in a state of tumult to witness his ascent. This was his
twenty-seventh voyage in Europe.
In 1804, Professor Robertson ascended from St. Petersburg, accom-
panied by the Academician Sacharof. This was purely a scientific
voyage, instituted at the request of the Russian Academy, to ascertain
the physical state of the atmosphere, and the component parts of
it at different determinate heights; also the difference between the
results given by vertical ascent and the observations of De Luc,
Saussure, Humboldt, and others, on mountains, which it was rightly
concluded could not be so free from terrestrial influences as those
made in the open air. Among the experiments proposed by the
Academy which were to be made at great distances from the earth,
the following were included : — The change of rate of evaporation of
fluids; the decrease or increase of the magnetic force ; the in-
clination of the magnetic needle ; the increase of the power in the
solar rays to excite heat; the greater faintness of the colours pro-
duced by the prism ; the existence or non-existence of electric
matter ; observations on the influence and changes which the
rarefaction of the air occasions in the human body ; the flying of
birds ; the filling with air of exhausted flasks, at each fall of an
INTRODUCTION. 11
inch in the barometer ; and some other chemical and philosophical
experiments.
These are the questions to which every voyager in behalf of science
is required to add some testimony in reply. In the case of Mr.
Robertson, the gyrating movemeut of the balloon was a difficulty,
as it is to all aeronauts, and rendered observations with the deflecting
needle almost impossible. With the barometer at 27 inches, Mr.
Robertson and M. Sacharof experienced no more inconvenience than
a numbness of sensation in their ears, and no alteration of sound,
which at 23 inches was the same as on the earth's surface. At the
height of 22 inches they were nearly surrounded by fog, the earth
appearing enveloped in a smoke-coloured atmosphere which a good
telescope failed to penetrate.
Having discharged their ballast and thrown down every available
article from the car of the balloon, they deposited for safety their
instruments in the centre of a bundle made of their warm clothing,
and lowered it together with their grapnel. This proceeding was
intended to obviate the breakage consequent on a rough descent.
The balloon, so lightened on descending, flew up again to the limit
of the cord, but soon effected a safe and gentle landing. The in-
struments, roughly dragged along the surface of the ground with
the package of which they formed a part, were, as might have been
expected, injured or broken. These gentlemen made various minute
observations of interest, and intelligently recorded all that they wit-
nessed during their ascent. But the instruments could not easily
be used in the car of a balloon, and the results required confirmation
by subsequent experiments ; opportunities also were lost by fog and
a clouded atmosphere, and the practical embarrassments of balloon
management were severely felt ; so that the results are meagre, and
show the necessity of system and repeated practice to arrive at
results of value.
On October 7, 1803, Count Zambeccari, Dr. Grassati, of Rome, and
M. Rascal Andreoli, of Ancona, made a night ascent in a tire-balloon
from Bologna. They took with them instruments, and a lantern, by
which to see to make observations. The balloon rose with great
velocity, and soon attained a height at which Count Zambeccari and
Dr. Grassati became insensible. M. Andreoli retained the use of his
faculties. About two in the morning they found themselves descend-
ing over the waves of the Adriatic ; the lantern had gone out, and
to light it was a work of no little difficulty. The balloon continued to
descend rapidly, and fell, as they anticipated, into the sea. Thoroughly
drenched, they succeeded in throwing out ballast until they rose again,
Hi TRAVELS IX THE All!.
and passed through three successive regions of cloud, which covered
their clothes with rime, and in this situation they became deaf, and
could not hear each other speak. About three o'clock the balloon
again descended, and was driven by a gust of wind to the coast of
Istria, bounding in and out of the sea till eight o'clock in the morning,
when one Antonio Bazon picked them up in his ship, and carried
them to shore. The balloon, left to itself, went o\*er to the Turks,
having first mounted to an amazing height. The most intense interest
was excited for the fate of the aeronauts, and bulletins of health were
sent from Venice to Bologna. Count Zambeccari suffered most, and
was forced to have his fingers incised. The wdiole of the party,
however, ultimately recovered, and Count Zambeccari, in no way
intimidated, continued to persevere in making ascents to a consider-
able height. In the year 1812, accompanied by Signor Bonagna,
he ascended from Bologna. On coming down the balloon caught
in some high trees and took fire ; to avoid being burned they leaped
out, when Count Zambeccari was killed, and his companion much
injured.
In August 1808, Andreoli and Brioschi ascended at Padua, and
rose rapidly to a considerable height. When the barometer had
fallen to 15 inches, M. Brioschi felt a violent palpitation of the
heart, and when it had reached 12 inches he sank into a state of
torpor. M. Andreoli alone could observe the balloon, which rose
till the mercury stood at 9 inches ; he then found that he could
not use his left arm. Soon after this, with the barometer at 8
inches, the balloon is said to have burst with a loud report, and
then all came rapidly down together, with safety, near the place
of Petrarch's Tomb. The accuracy of this statement has been
questioned by the author of " Aerial and Alpine Voyages," who
takes it for granted that the rapid escape of heated air would have
caused not only a precipitate descent of the whole machine, but
the death of the aeronauts. The only part of the account that 1
feel inclined to question would be that concerning the reading of
the barometer, which gives an elevation of more than 30,000 feet.
The resistance offered by the air does much in such cases, and it
is not an inevitable result that every one must be dashed to pieces.
1 have myself, under the pressure of an immediate necessity to save
the land, fallen the last two miles in four minutes, holding to the
valve line to ensure its opening to the full extent and the rapid
escape of the gas, and though bruised have not been hurt severely.
Mr. Wise, the American aeronaut, has also twice descended to the
earth with an exploded balloon. The canvas, torn and rent, acts
INTRODUCTION. 17
as the mainsail of a ship, and the balloon gyrates through the air
in falling. It is not by any means a situation to be coveted, but one,
I should be understood to remark, not necessarily involving loss of
life, even from so great an elevation as that of the Italian aeronauts.
Increase of height accelerates the velocity of the descent, and much
increases the hazard of the situation ; but it is possible to fall and
live. In one of my descents from Wolverhampton, the wind made
it difficult and dangerous, and with our utmost efforts the balloon
came roughly to the ground : it struck the earth and rebounded
again and again, until a long tear became visible, which spread
rapidly. The sides of the balloon stood out like wings, but the
upper part remained, until finally a great rent passed up from neck
to valve, when I fully expected all would drop down. But for some
little time after this the great valve, with its heavy springs, remained
fifty feet high in the air, whilst the whole balloon opened out in one
immense sheet, and, kite-like, kept up perhaps for rather more than
a minute, though it appeared to me a much longer time. It then
gradually fell to the ground. That it did not fall more rapidly was
due to the pressure of the atmosphere. We had a few bruises, but
none of any importance, and were spared the general reversal of our
effects which happened to Mr. Wise, who alighted with his car bottom
upwards. If we therefore, in consideration of our own and other
authenticated experiences, allow that the Italian aeronauts might
have survived the catastrophe of their machine, and that the elevation
they attained was nearly, if not quite, equal to that which they
record, I may remark that the remainder of their statement bears
comparison with the effect of rarefied atmosphere upon others.
Thus, Signor Andreoli, of whose ascents there are frequent mention,
and who was more inured probably to the higher regions, suffered
less than Signor Brioschi, and observed the barometer after his com-
panion became insensible. At 15 inches, Signor Brioschi found his
respiration seriously affected. At 15 inches, I began to pant for
breath. At 12 inches, Signor Brioschi became insensible, — that is,
at about 23,000 feet above the earth, the same height to which Gav-
Lussac attained without inconvenience. At 9 inches of the b uro-
meter, that is, at 29,000 feet, Signor Andreoli, more seasoned than
his companion, found only that he could not use his left arm, and
was able to observe that the halloon was fully inflated. The balloon
employed was doubtless one of Montgolfier's filled with heated air,
as such were principally in use in Italy. It ascended with great
rapidity, and, unless they carried fire, must have cooled and descended
within a very short period of time, without travelling far from the
c
18 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
place of ascent. Leaving it an open question whether or no the
barometer reading may have given too great altitudes, we may fairly
suppose that Signor Andreoli, of whom frequent mention is made,
had become enabled to support the greater rarity of the air, -whilst
his companion is shown to have yielded at an elevation less than that
at which, when seasoned, I first became seriously affected. I am
inclined to accept the statement as it is written, and the facts described
are certainly in accordance with other experiences. It maybe argued
that Gay-Lussac felt no inconvenience at the height at which Signor
Brioschi fainted; but the French philosopher ascended in a hydrogen
balloon, slowly, to take note of the instrumental phenomena com-
mitted to his charge, and there is every reason to believe that Signors
Brioschi and Andreoli ascended very rapidly to a great height, the
sudden effect of which, as I have already said, is a shock which the
system is unable to support.
In August 1811, Mr. Sadler and Mr. Henry Beaufoy ascended from
Hackney ; they attained an elevation no higher than sufficient to
view the landscape of the earth spread out beneath them like an open
map, and were not therefore subject to the test of physiological
sensations. The idea of unlimited freedom conveyed by the sense
of floating in the invisible medium which surrounds the aeronaut;
the total unconsciousness of movement, and the sudden sinking away
of the earth and the people on it ; the silence of the upper regions
succeeding instantaneously to the shouts of the spectators and the
noise and turmoil around the car, are among the first impressions
which occurred to Mr. Beaufoy.
In 1812, Mr. Sadler ascended at Dublin to cross to Liverpool, but
meeting with an adverse current, he resolved to descend into the sea.
To escape from drowning, and effect the disablement of his balloon,
he caused the crew of a ship to run her bowsprit through it, and then
to take him on board. Mr. Sadler, junior, ascended from the Green
Bark, and with difficulty saved his life. Not only did the valve
become frozen, but the net burst at the top, and the silken covering
of the balloon began gradually protruding through it. To save
himself from being precipitated to the earth, he tied the long silken
neck of the balloon round his body. After being carried to a great
height into the upper regions, and almost frozen with the cold, he
came down at length near Gravesend.
In 1832, Dr. Foster ascended with Mr. Green from Chelmsford,
with the idea of making some further observations on clouds, in
addition to those already made on Alpine excursions ; also to test by
personal sensation the effect of the higher regions of the air upon the
INTRODUCTION. 19
organs of hearing. They ascended slowly, and were for a time
becalmed. " It was towards evening, and looking in the direction
of Maldon river, and hovering over its marshy land, we saw," ob-
serves Dr. Foster, " what had evidently been a cumnlus now subsiding
into a stratus, or white evening mist, stretching in such a manner over
the ground in its descent, that we at first took it for smoke. Higher \\\
there were cumuli in the air, and uniform haze, and some warm clouds.
The beauty and extent of prospect now increased. All earthly sounds
ceased as soon as we had got above the breeze which swept above the
surface of the ground, where in a region comparatively calm, and
lighter than it was below, we were conscious of no motion whatever.
I presently felt a slight movement, and heard the great buoyant
balloon above us make a noise, as if touched by the wind. On ad-
verting to the cause, we found that we had got into another current,
which wafted us back again towards Chelmsford as we moved round
with the oscillating machine. ... I remember, in crossing to France,"
continues Dr. Foster, " the first experience of a steamboat paddling
across the level brine like a fish was a curious phenomenon, having
before been only conveyed by sailing vessels. But this new-born
Leviathan of the deep is nothing to this Pegasus of the air, neither
is the sensation produced by a balloon in motion at all comparable
to that of a balloon at rest."
The most remarkable ascent of the century was that fitted out by
Robert Hollond, Esq., M.P. ; Mr. Green's balloon, afterwards known
as the great Nassau, was employed for the expedition, and provided
with every imaginable requisite, and provisions to last a fortnight,
or longer if need be. On the afternoon of Monday, jSTov. 7, 1836, it
left Vauxhall Gardens. The party consisted of Mr. Green and Mr.
Robert Hollond, the projector of the enterprise, accompanied by Mr.
Monck Mason. It was one o'clock when they left the earth, and, in
obedience to the prevailing current, were wafted gently along. By the
fading light of the winter day they found themselves leaving land, and
vertically placed above the breakers on the beach beneath. Throughout
the night, in utter darkness, they voyaged for hours above a dense
stratum of cloud, through breaks of which an occasional glimmer of
light from the fires on the surface of the earth alone could penetrate
by a partial glimpse. As morning dawned the aspect of the country
they were traversing afforded them no knowledge of their bearing,
and at ten minutes past five they gained their greatest elevation, and
mounted to a height of 12,000 feet. At a quarter to six they were
brought into full view of the sun, and presently descending, to rise
again, enjoyed the spectacle of a sunrise above the clouds. As the sun
c: 2
20 TEA VELS IN THE ATE.
gained p iwer they anxiously endeavoured to gain some knowledge of
the position they occupied above the earth, and, in ignorance of the
speed with which they had been journeying and of the distance
traversed, began to surmise that they might already have passed the
limit of that part of Europe where they might expect to find the
accommodation and conveniences necessary for their comfort and the
safety of the balloon. The large tracts of snow beneath them sug-
gested the plains of Poland or the steppes of Russia ; they therefore
] imposed to descend without delay, and, lowering the grapnel, came
safely to earth, passing the gentle declivity of a wooded valley, and
descending into the bosom of the trees which capped its summit.
Bespeaking the assistance of people near, the balloon was speedily
se lured, and they learned that they had descended in the duchy of
Nassau, about two leagues from the town of Weilburg. The journey
had lasted eighteen hours, and was thus brought to a safe and agree-
able termination. Mr. Monck Mason drew up an able account of the
expedition, which he subsequently published in his " History of Aeros-
tation," a work to which I refer my readers who may feel interested
in further particulars of the voyage.
Had I attempted a consecutive narrative of balloon ascents (instead
of calling attention to those only which were important on account
of their elevation), the names of Pilatre de Pozier, the first aeronaut,
and Planchard, the first aerial voyager by profession, would have
found greater prominence.
In the use of the balloon, distinction must be made between
travelling for miles horizontally over a surface of country which is
disclosed like a grand natural panorama to the eye of the voyager,
and ascending perpendicularly to the gi*eatest altitude within the
capacity of the machine and the limits of human life. Vertical
and horizontal explorations of the air have each a range of ex-
periences of their own ; the latter give rise to personal enjoyment
chiefly, while the former add to our knowledge of hitherto un-
explored territory.
Fiir vertical motions only is the balloon manageable. With its
capacity measured and weight determined, its ascending power can
be calculated, and the aeronaut may nerve himself to brave the vicissi-
tudes of a certain elevation, and, if inured to the work of observation,
make every fresh ascent an epoch in discovery. To Mr. Green is due
the employment of coal gas, which has long superseded the use of
hydrogen. The filling of a balloon, therefore, is no longer the tedious
and uncertain operation it was formerly, extending sometimes over
several days, but is performed with ease and certainty in a few hours
IXTlluDrrTlOX. 21
and at a moderate cost. The comparatively easy management of a
balloon so fdled in the hands of a practised aeronaut, under whose
guidance for a matter of £s. d. one can sit securely and for an hour
or two enjoy the delight of an aerial voyage within sight of earth, is
one reason, I believe, Avhy the balloon has gradually degenerated into
an instrument of popular exhibition and passing amusement, so that
its striking characteristics and important bearing are in danger of
fading completely out of view.
To guide the balloon in any horizontal direction appears now as far
from practicable as it has ever been. We start from a given point
to go where chance directs. The compass we carry with us, not that
we may steer our course along a given route, but trace by it the
erratic and ungoverned movements of the machine that carries us.
AVe traverse perhaps the segment of a huge circle, the line of our
path in space. We proceed and return, advance onward, now gently,
now with velocity. We sit in the car without the slightest knowledge
of the earth's landscape hidden beneath the vapours of the air. The
voyage itself is to last many hours, if all things should be favourable.
Where, let us ask, is the practical advantage of such a machine ? To
what use can it be converted ? Are we wrong in supposing it to be a
first principle which requires yet to be engrafted into some mechanism
which shall be more subordinate to the requirements of life ?
It is not to be supposed that additional frequency of respiration in
an attenuated air makes amends for the want of oxygen. Those who
have felt the continued dryness of the throat, which is parched so that
to swallow is painful, are sensible to the contrary ; but the death it
produces is painless, and asphyxia steals away the life of the human
being as he moves above, suspended in mid-air, as stealthily as cold
does that of the mountain traveller, who, benumbed and insensible to
suffering, yields to the lethargy of approaching sleep, and reposes to
wake no more. These two powers rule respectively the upper regions
of the atmosphere, whether we seek to approach them by vertical
ascent or by the steepest mountains, and the element we live in warns
back the adventurous traveller to the limits appointed to human life
and physical exertion.
Let us take the Balloon as we now find it, and apply it to the use;
of vertical ascent ; let us make it subservient to the purposes of war,
an instrument of legitimate strategy; or employ it to ascend to the
verge of our lower atmosphere ; and, as it is, the balloon will claim its
place among the most important of human inventions, even if it
remain an isolated power, and should never become engrafted as the
ruling principle of the mechanism we have yet to seek.
22 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
The Balloon, considered as an instrument for vertical exploration,
presents itself to us under a variety of aspects, each one of which is
fertile in suggestions. [Regarding the atmosphere as the great labora-
tory of changes which contain the germ of future discoveries, to belong-
respectively as they unfold to the chemist and the meteorologist, the
physical relation to animal life of different heights ; the form of death
which at certain elevations waits to accomplish its destruction ; the
effect of diminished pressure upon individuals similarly placed ; the
comparison of mountain ascents with the experiences of aeronauts,
are some of the questions which suggest themselves, and faintly
indicate inquiries which naturally ally themselves to the course of
balloon experiments. Sufficiently varied and important, they will be
seen to rank the Balloon as a valuable aid to the uses of philosophy,
and rescue it from the impending degradation of continuing a toy, fit
only to be exhibited, or to administer to the pleasures of the curious
and lovers of adventure.
We can also make use of it to determine the proportions of the
gaseous elements we breathe. Do not the waves of the aerial ocean
contain, within their nameless shores, a thousand discoveries des-
tined to be developed in the hands of chemists, meteorologists, and
physicists? Have we not to study the manner in which the vital
functions are accomplished at different heights, and the way in which
death takes possession of the creatures whom we transport to these
remote regions ? Have we not to compare the different effects of the
diminution of pressure on individuals placed in identical condition in
the car of the same balloon ?
When the Balloon was invented, the great Lavoisier was charged
by the Academy of Sciences to draw up a report in order to estimate
the value of this unexpected discovery. After having minutely
described the ascents at which he was present, the illustrious
chemist stopped, appalled in some measure at the multitude of the
problems the Balloon would help to solve, and the series of uses of
which it seemed susceptible. I shall imitate his reserve ; for it
seems unnecessary to justify further the attempt to make the Balloon
a philosophical instrument, instead of an object of exhibition, or a
vehicle for carrying into the higher regions of the air excursionists
desirous of excitement, mere seekers after adventure.
f--?' . if I <
Mil. ULAIHHEIt IN THE CAR
CHAPTER I.
THE FIKST SCIENTIFIC ASCENTS IN ENGLAND.
Tiieee are no frontiers in the reign of thought, and the conquests of
the human mind belong to all the world; yet each civilized nation is
called upon to give its contingent to the great work of the study
of Nature, and to choose those branches which are most suited to
its genius.
France has given the Balloon to the world, but her work is still
incomplete, and the conquest of Charles and Montgolfier remains
undeveloped. It is not, however, my intention to describe the at-
tempts which have been made to this end, or discuss the value of the
Balloon as a first step towards the solution of the problem of aerial
locomotion ; I desire only to describe the principal results of my own
aeronautical excursions, after briefly alluding to the observations of
my predecessors in this field of inquiry.
The first persons in England who devoted themselves to aerial
navigation were foreigners. The philosopher Tiberius Cavallo and
the diplomatist Vincent Lunardi were both Italians. But from the
time when Lunardi inaugurated balloon ascents to the present day, it
may be truly said that balloons have remained popular with us ; not
only have noblemen and gentlemen shown a taste for aerial journeys,
but men of science have followed up with avidity the great experi-
■24 TEA VELS JX THE AIR.
ments made on the Continent, and several attempts have been made
in England, both by free and captive balloons, to study systematically
the phenomena of the atmosphere.
In 1838 and 1850, Mr. Rush ascended several times with Mr.
Green, and made some observations mainly on humidity. Public
attention was aroused to a certain extent, but the ascents were
chiefly known from an incident which occurred at the end of one
of them. The balloon descended in the sea near Sheerness, and
the car was dragged through the water with considerable rapidity ;
the balloon acting as a kite. Mr. Green therefore threw out the
grapnel, which caught in a sunken wreck, and detained the balloon
till a boat came up and secured the voyagers. A volley of musketry
was fired into the balloon to admit of the escape of the gas, and
it was ultimately secured.
Soon after the discovery of the Balloon, a desire arose for experi-
ments in the higher regions of the air. The first experiments, as
1 have previously stated, were made at St. Petersburg, by command
of the Emperor of Russia, by Mr. Robertson, in the years 1803 and
1804, but no important results were obtained.
In the year 1804 two experiments were made at Paris : the first on
August 31, by Gay-Lussac and Biot. These gentlemen ascended to
the height of 13,000 feet, but did not commence their observations till
they were 7,000 feet high. Their experiments in magnetism, elec-
tricity, or galvanism, gave results identical with those made on the
earth — a source of much disappointment to every one.
It was then supposed that they had not ascended high enough, and
Gay-Lussac resolved to go alone, with the view of reaching a greater
elevation. This he succeeded in doing on the loth of September
following, when he reached a height of 23,000 feet, and found a
decline of temperature from 82° to 15°; almost confirming the theory
of a decline of temperature of 1° in 300 feet of elevation. The sky
was very blue, and the air was found to be very dry. A magnet took
a longer time to vibrate than on the earth. He filled two bottles with
air from the higher regions, which on analysis was found to be in its
component parts the same as the lower air.
Two years after this, the Astronomer Royal of Naples, Carlo Brioschi,
wished to ascend higher than Ga)7-Lussac, but this he was unable to do
in consequence of the Balloon bursting. Alter this no attempt was
made till the year 1S43, when the British Association appointed a
committee and voted a sum of money for experiments by means of
captive balloons. Several committees were subsequently appointed,
and out of the limited resources of the Association considerable sums
If
fc*
THE FIRST SCIENTIFIC ASCENTS IN ENGLAND. 27
of money were granted for experiments by means of balloons ; but no
good results were obtained. This want of success omdit neither to
discourage nor astonish us ; captive ascents, though easy enough when
directed by experienced aeronauts with proper appliances, present
inextricable difficulties to novices unaccustomed to the disappoint-
ments of aerial navigation.
In the year 1850 MM. Bixio and Barral conceived the project of
ascending to a height of 30,000 to 40,000 feet, in order to study the
many atmospheric phenomena as yet imperfectly known. On June
29th in that year, a balloon was filled in the garden of the Observatory
at Paris with pure hydrogen gas. The weather was bad — a torrent of
rain fell ; MM. Bixio and Barral, and the aeronaut, placed themselves
in the car without testing the ascending power of the balloon, and darted
into the air like an arrow, as described by the spectators, so that in
two minutes they were lost in the clouds. At a height of 5,000 feet
the gas in the balloon expanded with great force against the netting,
which proved to be too small. The balloon became full, and descending
upon the voyagers covered them completely as they were seated in the
car, which unfortunately was suspended by cords much too short. In
this difficult situation, one of them, in his efforts to disengage the cord
from the valve, made an opening in the lower part of the balloon,
from which the gas escaping at the height of their heads, occasioned
them continued illness. Then they found that the balloon was torn
and they were falling fast. They threw away everything they could,
and came to the earth in a vineyard, having left it only forty-seven
minutes previously. A mass of clouds 9,000 feet in thickness was
passed through. The decrease of temperature up to 19,000 feet, the
highest point reached, seemed to confirm the results obtained by
Gay-Lussac in 1804.
In the following month, July 27, the filling of the balloon was
commenced early in the morning. It proved to be a long operation,
occupying till nearly two o'clock ; then heavy rain fell, the sky became
overcast, and it was after four when they left the earth. They soon
entered a cloud at 7,000 or 8,000 feet, which proved to be fully 15,000
feet in thickness ; they never, however, reached its highest point, for
when at 4h. 50m. the height of 23,000 feet was reached, they began
to descend, owing to a tear which was then found in the balloon.
After vainly attempting to check this involuntary descent, they
reached the earth at 5h. 30m.
On approaching the limit of this cloud of 15,000 feet in thickness,
the blue sky was seen through an opening in the surrounding vapour.
The polariscope, when directed towards this point, showed an intense
28 TRA VELS IN THE AIR.
polarization, but when directed to the side, away from the opening,
there was no polarization.
An interesting optical phenomenon was observed in this ascent.
When near their highest point, the bed of the clouds which covered the
balloon having become less dense, the two observers saw the sun dim
and (piite white, and also at the same time a second sun reflected as
from a sheet of water, probably formed by the reflection of luminous
lays on horizontal sides of crystal ice floating in the clouds.
The most extraordinary and unexpected result, however, observed
in this ascent was the great change of temperature. At the height of
about 19,000 feet the temperature was 15°, but in the next 2,000 feet
it fell to minus 39°. This wonderful change was experienced in the
clouds. What, we may ask, can the constituents of such a cloud
linn be ? In this voyage a height short of Gay-Lussac's by 50 feet
was reached, but a temperature lower by 54° was recorded, and the
clothes of the observers were covered with fine needles of ice. From
this time until quite recently no ascents have been made in France
in the cause of science.
In the year 1852 Mr. Welsh, of the Kew Observatory, made, under
the auspices of the British Association, four ascents in the great
Nassau balloon, with the veteran aeronaut Mr. Green, who had then
an experience derived from several hundred ascents.
In August, October, and November he reached the respective
heights of 10,500, 19,100, 12,(340, and 22,030 feet, and in each ascent
made a valuable series of observations.
The facts recorded by Gay-Lussac, relative to the decline of tem-
perature with increase of elevation, appeared to confirm the law which
had been derived from observations made on mountain-sides, viz. a
decrease of 1° for every increase of 300 feet of elevation; and the
deductions of .Mr. Welsh from his experiments tended to the Confirma-
tion of the same law, with some modifications.
The results of Welsh's observations were published in the Philo-
sophical Transactions of the Royal Society for the year 1853, and
al'tirwards in the Bulletin Gdographique de Br. Petermann for 1850.
When these ascents were made, they excited the greatest public
interest. I watched Mr. Welsh's fourth ascent throughout, from the
roof of the Royal Observatory at Greenwich, with a good telescope.
The day was fine and the air clear, and I was surprised at the facility
with which I could follow every movement of the balloon, from its
departure to its descent. During the whole time that the balloon was
in the air, and while it traversed a course of fifty-seven miles in t he-
direction E.S.E., I never lost sight of it for a moment. I saw it rise
THE FIRST SCIENTIFIC ASCENTS IN ENGLAND. 29
from Vauxhall at 21i. 22m., and descend at 3h. 40m., at a place which
I afterwards learned was near Folkestone. It was this circumstance
which notably influenced me in my desire for balloon observations,
and which led me to believe in the possibility of combining terrestrial
observations with those made in the balloon, and thereby determining
the height of the balloon at different times, independently of observa-
tions made in the car. But in my own ascents I never was able to
organize, to my satisfaction, the telescopic observations of the balloon
from the earth, so as to verify the heights determined from my own
observations.
This, however, was not the first time aerial physics had engaged my
attention. A taste for these studies was first developed during my
residence in Ireland in the years 1829 and 183(3. In these years
I was often enveloped in fog for entire weeks, first on the mountain
Bencor, in Galway, and afterwards upon the summit of the Keeper
Mountain, near Limerick. At this time I was engaged on the
principal triangulation of the Trigonometrical Survey of Ireland, and
in the performance of my duty I was often compelled to remain,
sometimes for long periods, above, or enveloped in cloud. I was thus
led to study the colours of the sky, the delicate tints of the clouds,
the motion of opaque masses, the forms of the crystals of snow. On
leaving the Survey, and entering tire Observatory of Cambridge, and
afterwards that of Greenwich, my taste did not change. Often between
astronomical observations I have watched with great interest the
forms of the clouds, and often, when a barrier of cloud has suddenly
concealed the stars from view, I have wished to know the cause of
their rapid formation, and the processes in action around them.
The illness of Mr. Welsh interrupted his series of experiments, and
scientific ascents ceased to occupy public attention. But the British
Association did not lose their interest in aerial experiments, and
Colonel Sykes, M.P. for Aberdeen, again brought the subject before
the meeting of the British Association at Leeds in 1858, and obtained
the appointment of an influential committee. The resources of the
Association, composed exclusively of the contributions of its members,
are devoted mainly to taking the initiative in important and hitherto
unexplored departments of science, and out of these limited means the
necessary grants for these scientific balloon ascents were made, the
chief expenses being the hire of the balloon, the payment of the
aeronaut for its management, and the cost of the gas. Several of the
members of the committee had already made balloon ascents with
Mr. Green. They were, therefore, well able to appreciate the import-
ance of observations made in and above the clouds. It was at first
30 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
arranged that Mr. Green should direct the ascents, and that the
observations should be taken by young men. Mr. Green, who was
born in 1784, the same year as the introduction of balloons into
England, was then seventy-four years of age.
I gave two young observers all the instructions I could in respect
to the observations to be taken, and explained to them all the precau-
tions that a long life devoted to observations suggested to me. On the
15th August, 1859, the members of the committee met at Wolver-
hampton, in order to assist at the first departure of the balloon. This
town was selected on account of its central position. It was sub-
sequently the point of departure of some of my most successful
expeditions.
The weather was fine when the filling of the great Nassau balloon
was begun ; but the wind arose, and many accidents happened which
pi*evented the filling of the balloon taking place, so that the ascent
was deferred till the 16th of August. The committee was again at its
post on this day, but, as it proved, only to see an aerial shipwreck.
"When many thousands of feet of gas had been introduced into the
balloon, the wind arose and blew it with such violence that it was
torn, and all the gas escaped.
Mr. Green, having examined the injury, said it would take many
days to repair, and as the meeting of the Association was approaching,
it was resolved to defer the experiment. Such accidents would be
impossible, or at least of extremely rare occurrence, if a less barbarous
mode of inflating balloons than filling them slowly in the open air
were adopted.
Mr. Green was greatly distressed at this accident, which was due to
no fault of his ; for to it was attributable the interruption of a series
of experiments which, he calculated, would have placed aerial naviga-
tion in its proper place, and raised it from the inferior position in
which he found it. Having had, he said, all his life to contend
with similar difficulties at places of amusement only, he was more
than anyone else aware of the importance of experiments made under
irreproachable conditions, and placed under the patronage of learned
men ; and he wished to close his career under such circumstances.
The career of Green began in the year 1821, at the coronation of
George IV. ; it continued for thirty-six years, during which he made
nearly 1,400 ascents. Three times he crossed the sea ; twice he fell
into it. He obtained a large experience, and his accounts arc worthy
of all confidence; but, unfortunately, his education was not sufficiently
good to make him a competent observer in the higher regions of the
atmosphere. However, he improved the general management of
THE FIRST SCIENTIFIC ASCENTS IN ENGLAND. 31
balloons in many particulars — his guide-rope in aerial navigation,
particularly of use in crossing seas, and the introduction of carhuretted
gas in the place of hydrogen, are worthy of mention. He died in the
year 1870, in his eighty-sixth year.
The Balloon Committee, though discouraged by these frequent
delays, resolved to organize four ascents from Wolverhampton. It
was decided that they should be to the height of four or five miles,
in order to verify the facts announced by Gay-Lussac and MM. Bixio
and Barral ; but on inquiry it was found that no balloon that would
contain a sufficient quantity of gas to enable an observer to ascend so
high was to be obtained in England. The largest, it was understood,
was the Royal Cremorue, which would hold nearly 50.000 feet. This
balloon the committee therefore obtained, and Mr. Lithgoe, who had
made nearly one hundred ascents, principally from Cremorne, was
employed as aeronaut. Ballooning had been for many years pursued
only as a trade, and there was no choice whatever either of balloons
or aeronauts. Notwithstanding the desire which I had always felt for
observations at high altitudes, I had decided not to take the observa-
tions myself, but only to give all necessary instructions in the use of
instruments and precautions necessary to be taken.
As the gentleman who first engaged to be the observer declined,
the observations were entrusted to Mr. Criswick, assistant at the
Observatory at Greenwich, who alone was to accompany the aeronaut.
The space within the boundary of the Gas Works was selected for
inflating the balloon. Before the hour of the ascent, the membeis
of the committee, with Lord Wrottesley and Mr. W. Fairbairn, the
President of the British Association, were on the ground.
At lh. 4m. the balloon ascended slowly and steadily. After remain-
ing nearly stationary for a few minutes sand was thrown out, and the
height of one mile was reached ; in thirteen minutes it passed out of
sight ; but little more than a mile had been reached when the balloon
descended from sheer inanition. It proved to be full of minute holes,
and was quite useless, as were the observations made, which contradicted
themselves. The disappointment was great. Arrangements had been
made for meteorological observations every few minutes, at thirty
different places. This check to the proceedings was very serious, and
naturally disgusted many with aeronautical experiences. Colonel
Sykes and the committee were bitterly disappointed, but met in con-
sultation at Wrottesley Hall. Mr. Lithgoe admitted that the balloon
had been in use thirty years, and was worn out ; he advised application
to be made to Mr. Coxwell for the use of his Mars balloon.
I must ask pardon of the reader for entering into all these details,
32
TEA VELS IX THE AIR.
but they show the greatness of the difficulties with which such in-
vestigations are too often surrounded. One would have believed that
the real difficulties would have been met with in the air, but, on the
contrary, the greatest difficulties had to be overcome on the earth.
The Mars was found to be injured. Several tailors were set to
repair it, but it was found that their combined labour could not effect
the reparation in less than several days, and even then Mr. Coxwell
said he could not pledge himself to make a safe ascent ; he offered,
however, to construct a new balloon, larger than any previously made.
It was in the car of this balloon that by far the greater number of my
experiments were subsequently made.
BLANCHAUD S CAB.
THE BALLOON FORMING A PARACHUTE.
CHAPTER H.
MY FIRST ASCENT — WOLVERHAMPTON.
July 17, 1862.
Notwithstanding all these accumulated difficulties and the efforts
I had been obliged to make to overcome them, I found that in spite
of myself I was pledged both in the eyes of the public and the British
Association to produce some results in return for the money expended.
I therefore offered to make the observations myself. The three or
four months which elapsed between the abortive attempt of the Mars
and my first ascent were devoted to preparatory studies and experi-
ments ; for I was occupied with the construction and management of
the apparatus which I intended to take with me. I also accustomed
myself to the use and manipulation of the instruments in a limited
space, and considered how best to group them on a board such as
would have to serve me for a table in the car of the great balloon ; so
that when the day for the ascent came, I was able to imagine that I
was not making my aerial delft.
In spite of the experience which I had of observations on the earth,
and in spite of the time which I had devoted to this first ascent, I
had neglected a great number of useful precautions, and encumbered
myself with some superfluous apparatus ; in short, I was aide to
perfect without cessation my apparatus in even' successive ascent. I
D
U TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
hope that the experience which I have acquired, sometimes to my
cost, will show how much those philosophers are in error who think
that observations in the higher regions can be made well enough by
the first observer that comes.
The novelty of the situation, the rapidity with which all the obser-
vations must be made, and the smallness of the space at command,
require that the observer should have previously had considerable
practice in the use of the instruments under all circumstances. I
may mention also that I experienced great anxiety when I reflected
that at every instant I might be failing to observe very important
phenomena, and that I was excessively fatigued by the extraordinary
attention to which I found myself condemned by the fear of not being
ready when the moment came to observe a phenomenon which
perhaps no human eye had contemplated before.
The objects to which the Committee of the British Association
resolved to devote their principal attention were, primarily : — To
determine the temperature of the air and its hygrometrical states, at
different elevations, to as great a height as possible ; to determine
the rate of decrease of temperature with increase of elevation, and to
ascertain whether the results obtained by observations on mountain-
sides, viz. a lowering of temperature of one degree for every increase
of elevation of 300 feet, be true or not ; also to investigate the dis-
tribution of the water in the invisible shape of vapours, in the air
below the clouds, in the clouds, and above them at different eleva-
tions. Secondarily : —
1. To determine the temperature of the dew-point by Daniell's dew-
pi lint hydrometer, by Regnault's condensing hygrometer, and by dry
and wet bulb thermometers as ordinarily used, as well as when under
the influence of the aspirator (so that considerable volumes of air were
made to pass over both their bulbs) at different elevations, as high as
possible, but particularly up to those heights where man may be resi-
dent, or where troops may be located (as in the high lands and plains
of India), with the view7 of ascertaining what confidence maybe placed
in the use of the dry and wet bulb thermometers at those elevations,
by comparison with the results as found from them, and with those
found directly by Daniell's and Regnault's hygrometers ; also to com-
paie the results as found from the two hygrometers.
2. To compare the readings of an aneroid barometer with those of a
mercurial barometer up to five miles.
3. To examine the electrical condition of the air at different heights.
4. To determine the oxygenic condition of the atmosphere by means
of ozone papers.
MY FIRST ASCENT. 35
5. To determine whether the horizontal intensity of the earth's
magnetism was less or greater with elevation, by the time of vibration
of a magnet.
6. To determine whether the solar spectrum, when viewed from the
earth, and far above it, exhibited any difference, and whefher there
were a greater or less number of dark lines crossing it, particularly
near sunset.
7. To collect air at different elevations.
8. To note the height and kind of clouds and their density and
thickness.
9. To determine the rate and direction of different currents in the
atmosphere.
10. To make observations on sound.
11. To make observations on solar radiation at different heights.
12. To determine the actinic effects of the sun at different eleva-
tions by means of Herschel's actinometer.
13. To note atmospherical phenomena in general, and to make
general observations.
Every one knows that the pressure of the atmosphere is measured
by means of the barometer. A column of air extending to its limit
of the same area as the barometer tube is balanced by the column of
mercury in the tube ; and if we weigh the mercury, we know the
weight or pressure of the column of atmosphere upon that area. If
the area of the barometer tube be one square inch, then this would
tell us the pressure of the atmosphere on one square inch. The
length of a column of mercury thus balanced by the atmosphere, near
the level of the sea, is usually about 30 inches, and if this be weighed
it will be found to be nearly 15 lbs. : therefore the atmospheric pressure
on every square inch of surface is about 15 lbs. — just one-half as
many pounds as the number of inches which expresses the height of
the column of mercury..
Now, in ascending into the air, part of the atmosphere is below, and
part above : the barometer therefore has to balance that which is above
only, and will therefore read less.
At the height of three miles and three-quarters, the barometer will
read about 15 inches : there is therefore as much atmosphere above this
point as there is below, and the pressure on a square inch is 7£ lbs.
At a height of between five and six miles from the earth, the
barometer reading will be about ten inches : one-third of the whole
atmosphere is then above, and two-thirds beneath ; and the pressure
on a square inch is reduced to 5 lbs.
The reading of the barometer varies with the altitude at which it
:3G TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
is observed, and indicates by its increasing or decreasing readings
corresponding changes in the pressure of the atmosphere.
At the height of 1 mile the barometer reading is 24/7 in.
„ 2 miles „ 20*3 „
» •' >> )> lb < ,,
j> * »j ?! i'i i ,,
!> o ,, „ Ll"3 ,,
1" „ » 4-2 „
» 15 ,, „ l"b „
20 „ „ 1-0 „ less.
By the reading of the barometer in the balloon, the distance from
the earth is known ; and if the balloon be situated above clouds, or in
a fog, the reading of the barometer indicates the near approach of the
earth, and acts as a warning to the occupants of the car to prepare
accordingly. In addition to this temporary use, the readings com-
bined with those of temperature enable us to calculate the height of
the balloon at every instant at which such readings have been taken.
The temperature of the dew-point also deserves a few explanatory
words.
There is always mixed with the air a certain quantity of water,
in the invisible shape of vapour, sometimes more, sometimes less ;
but there is a 'definite amount which saturates the air at every
temperature, though this amount varies considerably with different
temperatures.
A cubic foot of air at the temperature of —
30° is saturated with 2 grains of vapour of water.
4>t 4.
7') )> 8 „ „
m h i6 »
The capacity of air for moisture therefore doubles for every increase of
temperature of about 20 degrees.
The temperature of the dew-point is the temperature to which air
must be reduced in order to become saturated by the water then
mixed with it ; or it is that temperature to which any substance,
such as the bright bulb of a hygrometer, must be reduced before any
of the acpieous vapour present will be deposited as water, and become
visible as dew. The temperature at which this first bedewing or
dulling of bright surfaces takes place is the temperature of the dew-
point. For instance, I have already said that two grains of water
saturate a cubic foot of air at 30° : if, therefore, the temperature of
the air be 40°, and there be two grains of moisture in a cubic foot of
air, then, if the bulb of the hygrometer be reduced to 30°, a ring of
dew will appear on it, caused by the deposition of the water in the air.
MY FIRST ASCENT. 37
The determination of the dew-point at once tells ns therefore the
amount of water present, and, combined with the temperature, enables
us to determine the hygro metrical state of the atmosphere.
If the air be saturated with moisture, the temperature of the air
and that of the dew-point are alike ; if it be not saturated, the tem-
perature of the dew-point is lower than that of the atmosphere; if
there be a great difference between the two temperatures, the air is
dry; and if this happen when the temperature is low, there is very
little water present in the air.
By the careful simultaneous readings of two thermometers, one
with a moistened bulb and the other dry, or by the use of a Daniell's
or Eegnault's hygrometer, the amount of water present in the air in
the invisible shape of vapour can be determined, as well as the tem-
perature of the dew-point and the degree of humidity.
The degree of hitmidity of the air expresses the ratio between the
amount of water then mixed with it and the greatest amount it could
hold in solution at its then temperature, upon the supposition that the
saturated air is represented by 100, and air deprived of all moisture
by 0. Thus : Suppose the water present to be one-half of the quantity
that could be present, the degree of humidity in this case will be 50.
If the air were at the temperature of 30°, and there we're two grains of
moisture in the air, it would be saturated, and the degree of humidity
would be 100. If there were one grain, that is one-half of the whole
quantity that could be present, the air would be one-half saturated,
and the degree of humidity would be represented by 50.
At 49° with 4 grains of moisture
70
The air is saturated, and the degree
ao, " ,„ ( of humidity is 100.
„ 924 „ 16 „ ) J
But at 49° with 2 grains of moisture 1 _ . . , ,„
-() . ( The air is one-half saturated, and
" ooi " " ( ^le degree of humidity is 50.
The thermometers employed in the observations were exceedingly
sensitive ; the bulbs, long and cylindrical, being almost three-tenths
of an inch in length. The graduations, which extended to minus 40°,
were all made on ivory scales. These thermometers, on being removed
from a room heated 20° above that of the surrounding air, acquired
the temperature within half a degree in about ten or twelve seconds.
They were so sensitive that no correction was necessary for sluggish-
ness ; and this was proved to be the case by the near agreement of
the readings at the same height in the ascending and descending
curves, in cases when there was no reason to suppose there had been
any change of temperature at the same height within the interval
between the two series of observations.
38 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
I had two pairs of dry and wet bulb thermometers ; one pair similar to
those ordinarily used, the bulbs being protected from the direct rays of
the sun by a highly polished silver shade, in the form of a frustrum of a
cone, open at top and bottom, and a cistern fixed near to them for the
supply of water to the wet-bulb thermometer, as shown in the diagram.
The second pair were arranged for the employment of the aspirator,
the object of which was to induce at will a current of air across the
bulbs, which, being highly sensitive, woidd almost instantaneously
record the temperature of the air so set in motion. In this arrange-
ment the thermometers were enclosed in silver tubes placed side by
side, connected together at top by a cross tube, and both protected by
a shade, as in ordinary use. In the left-hand tube belonging to the
dry-bulb an opening was provided. By means of the aspirator a
current of air was drawn in at this opening, which, traversing round
the tubes, passed away into the aspirator. Thus the temperature of
the air in motion against the bulbs could be determined at pleasure
with the utmost nicety. (See diagram.)
IJegnault's condensing hygrometer was made with two thermometers,
and as described by Regnault himself. The scales were made of ivory,
and the thermometers fitted to the cups with cork, ready for packing
up at short notice.
The reader may judge from the diagram the arrangement of some
of the instruments.
At the extreme left (No. 1) are seen the dry and wet bulb ther-
mometers.
No. 2 is Darnell's hygrometer.
No. 3, the mercurial barometer.
No. 4, a blackened bulb thermometer, with its bulb fully exposed
to the sun's rays.
No. 5, two thermometers, dry and wet bulb, in connection with the
aspirator.
No. f>, a blackened bulb thermometer, placed in an hermetically
sealed vacuum tube, projecting outwards, as in No. 4, so that the bulb
was in the full rays of the sun.
No. 7, an aneroid barometer.
No. 8, an excessively delicate thermometer, with its bulb in form
of a gridiron. This arrangement was adopted for the purpose of
increasing the sensibility of the instrument.
No. 9, Regnault's hygrometer, with its india-rubber tube in con-
nection with the aspirator.
No. 10, one of two silver conical shields, the one within the other,
with a space between, for protecting the dry thermometer from the
MY FIRST ASCENT. 41
sun's rays. These rested on a silver shoulder affixed to the ther-
mometer tube, just above the bulb of each thermometer. The wet
thermometer was protected in a similar way. The shields are removed
from their proper places in the drawing to show the means adopted to
supply water to the bulb by means of capillarity.
No. 11, the water-vessel for the wet-bulb thermometer.
No. 12, a small bottle of water.
No. 13, a compass.
No. 14, a watch or chronometer.
Nos. 15 and 16, two taps connected with the aspirator, the one
connected with the dry and wet bulb thermometers (.3), and the other
with Regnault's hygrometer (9).
No. 17, a bottle of ether, for use with Daniell's and Regnault's
hygrometers.
No. 18, a lens to read the instruments.
No. 19, a weight attached to the barometer to keep it vertical.
No. 20, the aspirator arranged to be worked by the foot.
No. 21, a magnet, for the purpose of giving vibrations to the
compass needle.
No. 22, a minimum thermometer.
No. 23, an opera glass.
No. 24, a pair of scissors for cutting the strings.
All the instruments were attached to the table with strings, which
could be cut immediately, or they merely rested on stands which were
screwed to the table. This table was fixed across the car, and tied
there by strong cord. On approaching the earth, all the instruments
were rapidly removed and placed, anyhow, in a basket, furnished with
a number of soft cushions to cover them in layers, so that they were
not broken by the shock on coming in contact with the earth. When
more than two or three persons were in the car, besides myself, the
arrangement of the instruments was different, and they were less in
number.
As such ascents (when several were in the car) of necessity could
not be of extreme heights, and as it was found in the high ascents
that the aneroid read at all times very nearly the same as the mercurial
barometer, the same aneroid which had thus been tested was alone
used for the determination of elevation, and the mercurial barometer
was therefore not taken up.
It had also always been found that the dry and wet bulb thermo-
meters, whether aspirated or not, read alike ; the use of those under
the influence of the aspirator was therefore dispensed with ; and as
in point of fact one thermometer and one bright surface are all that
42 TEA FELS IN THE AIR,
Regnault's hygrometer needs to determine the temperature of the
deposit of dew, one of the thermometers only was used.
By these alterations I was euabled to conveniently place all the
necessary instruments in a much smaller space ; and ultimately, in my
low ascents, I managed to place them all on a board, projecting beyond
the side of the car, which had the double advantage of allowing the
air to play more freely about them, and leaving the aeronaut more
room. There was also a third arrangement adopted, viz. that for
night ascents. The inconvenience of reading instruments at night
necessitates the use of even a smaller number. In such experiments
I have usually confined myself to the determination of the tempera-
ture and humidity of the air at different elevations by the use of the
dry and wet thermometers solely.
In the night ascents I took with me a well-made Davy safety-lamp,
having previously tested it by plunging it into lighted gas proceeding
from a pipe. I also took the lamp up on a day ascent, and found it
could be used in a balloon-car with perfect ease. By its use I was
therefore able to read the instruments at night, though less quickly
than in daylight. I used the same framework, placed outside the car
as before, so that I stood with my back towards the aeronaut to whom
the management of the balloon was entrusted. At night I also used
to place a padded cushion, fitted into the frame, with padded sides,
and in this I placed the watch, barometer, pencils, &c.
I have been thus particular in describing my arrangements, as they
are the result of much thought and care, based upon experience.
At times I have taken up other instruments, such as the spectroscope,
ozone tests, an actinometer, &c. ; and this I was enabled to do when I
found I could dispense with all the aspirating apparatus and some of
the other instruments which were thought to be necessary at first :
these I do not think I need particularize. The great principle to be
attended to in the arrangement of the table is to fix everything by
nuts, screws, or strings, and to place the instruments in such positions
that they can be read with rapidity and ease, and removed in a
very short time into a wadded case, so that they are not broken
by the concussion.
On the 30th of June, 18G2, Mr. Coxwell brought his new balloon
to Wolverhampton; it was not made of silk, but of American cloth,
a material possessed of a great strength. Its capacity was 90,000 cubic
feet, exceeding in size that of the famous Nassau balloon. Misfortune
afrain followed the attempts of the committee ; for, notwithstanding
frequent uncomfortable gusts of wind, the inflation of the balloon was
proceeded with, and after three hours about 00,000 feet of gas had
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MY FIRST ASCENT. 43
passed in. At this time the wind arose, and great apprehensions were
felt for the safety of the balloon, so that the supply of gas had to he
cut off. The fierceness of the wind increased, and the balloon split
upwards to the first cross seam, and taking the course of the seam, the
rent ran almost round the balloon at its widest part. So much injury
was done that it took more than a week to repair it, although many
persons were employed on the work.
The directors of the Gas Company, and their engineer, Mr.
Proud, very kindly consented to make, and to store away, some light
gas, which we could not otherwise have procured. It is known that
the products of the distillation of coal in a closed retort are richest in
illuminating power at the commencement of the operation, and that
their value diminishes as the distillation proceeds. The products of
the last distillation are composed of a light gas, of weak illuminating
power, but most suitable for balloon ascents. These last products
were put into a special gasometer, and it is due to this circumstance
that I was enabled to make the extreme high ascents, which would
have been quite impossible if the Company had not placed a gaso-
meter at our disposal.
After the balloon was repaired, a week's bad weather followed, and
July 17 was the last day my engagements permitted me to remain at
Wolverhampton. The filling of the balloon began at five o'clock in
the morning, in the presence of Lord Wrottesley. As it proceeded,
the weather increased in badness ; and if it had not been for the
already great loss of time and the continued postponement of the
ascent that would have otherwise taken place, we should not have set
at defiance the terrible W.S.W. wind, which was blowing without
interruption. Very great difficulties were experienced in the inflation,
and it seemed as if the operation would never be completed. The
movements of the balloon were so great and so rapid, that it was
impossible to fix a single instrument in its position before quitting
the earth, and the state of affairs was by no means cheering to a
novice who had never before put his foot in the car of a balloon.
When Mr. Coxwell made up his mind, at 9h. 42m., to let go, the
balloon, which had been so impatient to be free, did not rise, but moved
horizontally on the ground for some distance, dragging the car on its
side ; which movement would have been fatal had there been any
chimney or lofty buildings in the way.
We left the earth at about 9h. 43m. A.M., and at 9h. 49m. reached
the clouds at an elevation of 4,467 feet. Eising still higher, at
9h. 51m., with an elevation of 5,802 feet, we passed out of this
stratum of cloud, but again became enveloped in a cumulo-stratus
44 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
at the height of 7,980 feet. The sun shone brightly upon us at
9h. 55in., and caused the gas to expand and the balloon itself to
assume the shape of a perfect globe. A most magnificent view
now presented itself, but, unfortunately, I was not able to devote
an}r time to note its peculiarities and its beauty, as I was still
arranging my instruments in the positions they were to occupy, and
we had reached a height exceeding 10,000 feet before all the instru-
ments were in working order. The clouds at this time (lOh. 2m.)
were very beautiful, and at lOh. 3m., at an elevation of 12,709 feet, a
band of music was heard. At lOh. 4m. the earth became visible
through breaks in the clouds. At 10,914 feet the clouds were far
below us, both cumulus and stratus, however, at a distance appearing
to be at the same height as ourselves, the sky above us being perfectly
cloudless and of an intense prussian blue.
At starting, the temperature of the air was 59°, and the dew-point
55° ; at 4,000 feet it was 45°, dew-point 33°, and it descended to 26°
at 10,000 feet, dew-point 19°; and then there was no variation of
temperature between this height and 13,000 feet. During the time of
passing through this space an addition was made to our clothing, as
we felt certain we should experience a temperature below zero before
we reached the height of five miles ; but, to my surprise, at the
height of 15,500 feet, the temperature as shown by all the sensitive
instruments was 31°, with a dew-point of 25°, and at each successive
reading up to 19,500 feet the temperature increased, and was 42° at
this height, with dew-point at 24°. We had both thrown off all extra
clothing. Within two minutes after this time, when we had fallen
somewhat, the temperature again began to decrease with extraordinary
.rapidity to 16°, or 27° less than it was twenty- six minutes previously.
At the height of 18,844 feet, eighteen vibrations of a horizontal
magnet occupied 2(V8S, and at the same height my pulse beat at the
rate of 100 pulsations per minute. At 19,415 feet palpitation of the
heart became perceptible, the beating of the chronometer seemed very
loud, and my breathing became affected. At 19,435 feet my pulse
had accelerated, and it was with increasing difficulty that I could read
the instruments ; the palpitation of the heart was very perceptible.
The hands and lips assumed a dark bluish colour, but not the face.
At 20,238 feet, twenty-eight vibrations of a horizontal magnet occupied
43s. At 21,792 feet I experienced a feeling analogous to sea-sickness,
though there was neither pitching nor rolling in the balloon; and
through this illness T was unable to watch the instruments long
enough to lower the temperature to get a deposit of dew. The sky at
this elevation was of a very deep blue colour, and the clouds were
1 I, :-v
>1»—
. ..,,, £1
I
MY FIRST ASCENT.
47
far below us. At 22,357 feet I endeavoured to make the magnet
vibrate, but could not ; it moved through arcs of about 20°, and then
settled suddenly.
Our descent began a little after 11 a.m., Mr. Coxwell experiencing
considerable uneasiness at our too close vicinity to the Wash. We
came down quickly, passing from a height of 16,300 feet to one of
12,400 feet between lib. 37m. and llh. 38m. ; at this elevation we
entered into a dense cloud which proved to be no less than 8,000 feet
in thickness, and whilst passing through this the balloon was invisible
from the car. From the rapidity of the descent the balloon assumed
the shape of a parachute ; and though Mr. Coxwell had reserved a
large amount of ballast, which he discharged as quickly as possible,
we collected so much weight by the condensation of the immense
amount of vapour through which we passed, that notwithstanding all
his exertions we came to the earth with a very considerable shock,
which broke nearly all the instruments. All the sand was discharged
when we were at a considerable elevation. The amount we had at our
disposal at the height of five miles was fully 500 lbs. ; this seemed to
be more than ample, and, when compared with that retained by Gay-
Lussac, viz. 33 lbs., and by Bush and Green, when the barometer
reading was eleven inches, viz. 70 lbs., seemed indeed to be more than
we could possibly need ; yet it proved to be insufficient.
The descent took place at Langham, near Oakham, in Rutlandshire.
ABOVE THE CLOl'DS
"WE PASSED THROUGH A MAGNIFICENT CUMULUS CLOUD."
('HATTER IN.
ASCENTS FROM WOLVERHAMPTON.
August 18, 1862.
The weather on this day was favourable ; there was but little wind
from the N.E. By noon the balloon was nearly inflated. As it
merely swayed in the light wind, the instruments were fixed before
starting, and at lh. 2m. 38s. the spring-catch was pulled, when for a
moment the balloon remained motionless, and then rose slowly and
steadily. In about ten minutes we passed into a magnificent cumulus
cloud, and emerged from it into a clear space, with a beautiful deep
blue shy, dotted with cirri, leaving beneath us an exceedingly beau-
tiful mass of cumulus clouds, displaying a variety of magnificent
lights and shades. Our direction was towards Birmingham, which
came into view about lh. 15m.
When at the height of nearly 12,000 feet, with the temperature
at 38°, or 30° less than on the ground, and the dew-point at 26°,
tbe valve was opened, and we descended to a little above 3,000
feet. The view became most glorious ; very fine cumulus clouds
were situated far below, and plains of clouds were visible to a
great distance. Wolverhampton, beneath us, was sharply and well
defined, appearing like a model. The clouds during this ascent were
remarkable for their supreme beauty, presenting at times mountain
ASCENTS FROM WOLVERHAMPTON. 49
scenes of endless variety and grandeur, and fine dome-like clouds
dazzled and charmed the eye with alternations and brilliant effects
of light and shade. The air on descending felt warm.
"We were about midway between "Wolverhampton and a town
(Walsall) when the balloon slightly collapsed, causing it to descend
a little, and the shouting of people was plainly heard, who expected
the balloon would descend (see diagram). At lh. 48 in. sand was
discharged, and a very gradual ascent took place, the direction being
along the high-road to Birmingham. On looking over the side of
the car the shadow of the balloon on the clouds was observed to
be surrounded by a kind of corona tinted by prismatic colours, and
the rippling of the water on the edges of the canal could be seen
very distinctly. "We discharged sand several times to enable us to
rise. The view continued very grand ; a great mass of clouds was
observed in the east, and a large town lay on our right. The balloon
was again full. At 2h. 34m. 20s. and at 2h. 45m. thunder was heard
from below, but no cloud could be seen. At 2h. 54m. my pulsations
were 100, 107, and 110 successively in one minute. When at the
height of 24,(100 feet, at 2h. 59m.. a consultation took place as to the
prudence of discharging more ballast, or retaining it so as to ensure a
safe descent ; ultimately it was decided not to ascend, as some clouds
whose thickness we could not tell had to be passed through. At
3h. 3m. it was difficult to obtain a deposit of dew on the hygrometer,
and the working of the aspirator became troublesome. A sound like
loud thunder was again heard at 3h. 13m.; at 3h. 25m. I began
to feel unwell. About 3h. 26m. a most remarkable view presented
itself : the sky was of a fine deep blue, dotted with cirri. The earth
and its fields, where visible, appeared very beautiful indeed — here,
hidden by vast cumuli and plains or seas of cumulo-strata, causing
the country beneath to be shaded for many hundreds of square miles ;
there, without a cloud to obscure the sun's rays. Again, in other
places there were detached cumuli, whose surfaces appeared connected
by vast plains of hillocky clouds, and in the interstices the earth was
visible, but partly obscured by blue haze or mist. In another place
brightly shining cumuli were observed, and seas of detached clouds
which cannot be described. Due north, a beautiful cloud, the same
we passed through on leaving Wolverhampton, and which had followed
us on our way, still reigned in splendour, and might from its grandeur
have been called the monarch of clouds. On looking over the top of
the car the horizon appeared to be on a level with the eye ; the image
of the balloon and car, in descending, was very distinctly visible on
the clouds. We entered clouds at 3h. 45m. and lost sight of the sun,
E
50 TEA VELS IN THE ATE.
but broke through at 3h. 50m. and saw the earth. Preparations were
made for the descent, which, after we had passed through some mist,
took place at Solihull, about seven miles from Birmingham.
September 5, 1862.
This ascent had been delayed owing to the unfavourable state of
the weather. We left the earth at lh. 3m. p.m. ; the temperature of
the air was 59°, and that of the dew-point 50°. The air at first was
misty; at the height of 5,000 feet the temperature was 41°, dew-
point 37°'9. At lh. 13m. we entered a dense cloud of about 1,100
feet in thickness, where the temperature fell to 3G°'5, the dew-point
being the same, thus indicating that the air here was saturated with
moisture. At this elevation the report of a gun was heard. Momen-
tarily the clouds became lighter, and on emerging from them at
lh. 17m. a flood of strong sunlight burst iqion us with a beautiful
blue sky without a cloud, and beneath us lay a magnificent sea of
clouds, its surface varied with endless hills, hillocks, and mountain
chains, and with many snow-white tufts rising from it. I here
attempted to take a view with the camera, but we were rising with
too great rapidity and revolving too quickly to enable me to succeed.
The brightness of the clouds, however, was so great that I should
have needed but a momentary exposure, Dr. Hill Norris having kindly
furnished me with extremely sensitive dry plates for the purpose.
We reached the height of two miles at lh. 22m., where the sky was
of a darker blue, and from whence the earth was visible in occasional
] latches beneath the clouds. The temperature had fallen to the
freezing-point, and the dew-point to 26°. The height of three miles
was attained at lh. 28m., with a temperature of 18°, and dew-point
13° ; from lh. 22m. to lh. 30m. the wet-bulb thermometer read incor-
rectly, the ice not being properly formed on it. At lh. 34m. Mr.
Cox well was panting for breath; at lh. 38m. the mercury of Daniell's
hygrometer fell below the limits of the scale. We reached the
elevation of four miles at lh. 40m. ; the temperature was 8°, the dew-
point minus 15°, or 47° below the freezing-point of water. Discharging
sand, we in ten minutes attained the altitude of five miles, and the
temperature had passed below zero and then read minus 2o,0. At
this point no dew was observed on Kegnault's hygrometer when
cooled down to minus 30°. Up to this time I had taken observa-
tions with comfort, and experienced no difficulty in breathing, whilst
Mr. Coxwell, in consequence of the exertions he had to make, had
breathed with difficulty for some time. Having discharged sand,
Feel
MOOO
80000
,101)00
I"
TlHIes
(i Miles
5 Miles
4- Miles.
* Miles
Intense hluc
Skx-
3(7"
~ -rT^'Th— r — — L~ — " - _i__: i^feia
Wolverhampton
Cold Weston
it Brooks. Day 8: 5i
Path of the Balloon in its ascent from Wolverhampton to
Cold Weston near Ludlow
5th September 18G2.
*Bfc+»
1111
SPItf.*'*
I-. A
ASCENTS FROM WOLVERHAMPTON. 53
we ascended still higher ; the aspirator became troublesome to work ;
and I also found a difficulty in seeing clearly. At lh. 51m. the
barometer read 10<Sin. About lh. 52m. or later, I read the dry-bulb
thermometer as minus 5° ; after this I could not see the column of
mercury in the wet-bulb thermometer, nor the hands of the watch,
nor the fine divisions on any instrument. I asked Mr. Coxwell to
help me to read the instruments. In consequence, however, of the
rotatory motion of the balloon, which had continued without ceasing
since leaving the earth, the valve-line had become entangled, and he
had to leave the car and mount into the ring to readjust it. I then
looked at the barometer, and found its reading to be 9|in., still
decreasing fast, implying a height exceeding 29,000 feet. Shortly
after I laid my arm upon the table, possessed of its full vigour, but
on being desirous of using it I found it powerless — it must have lost-
its power momentarily ; trying to move the other arm, I found it
powerless also. Then I tried to shake myself, and succeeded, but I
seemed to have no limbs. In looking at the barometer my head fell
over my left shoulder ; I struggled and shook my body again, but
could not move my arms. Getting my head upright for an instant
only, it fell on my right shoulder ; then I fell backwards, my back
resting against the side of the car and my head on its edge. In this
position my eyes were directed to Mr. Coxwell in the ring. "When I
shook my body I seemed to have full power over the muscles of the
back, and considerably so over those of the neck, but none over either
my arms or my legs. As in the case of the arms, so all muscular
power was lost in an instant from my back and neck. I dimly saw
Mr. Coxwell, and endeavoured to speak, but could not. In an instant
intense darkness overcame me, so that the optic nerve lost power
suddenly, but I was still conscious, with as active a brain as at the
present moment whilst writing this. I thought I had been seized
with asphyxia, and believed I should experience nothing more, as
death would come unless we speedily descended : other thoughts were
entering my mind, when I suddenly became unconscious as on going
to sleep. I cannot tell anything of the sense of hearing, as no sound
reaches the air to break the perfect stillness and silence of the
regions between six and seven miles above the earth. My last obser-
vation was made at lh. 54m. above 29,000 feet. I suppose two or
three minutes to have elapsed between my eyes becoming insensible
to seeing fine divisions and lh. 54m., and then two or three minutes
more to have passed till I was insensible, which I think, therefore,
took place about lh. 56m. or 57m.
Whilst powerless I heard the winds "temperature" and "observa-
54 TRAVELS TN THE AIR
lion," and I knew Mr. Coxwell was in the car, speaking to and
endeavouring to rouse me, — therefore consciousness and hearing had
returned. I then heard him speak more emphatically, but could not
see, speak, or move. I heard him again say, "Do try; now do."
Then the instruments became dimly visible, then Mr. Coxwell, and
very shortly I saw clearly. Next I arose in my seat and looked
around as though waking from sleep, though not refreshed, and said
to Mr. Coxwell, "I have been insensible." He said, "You have, and
I too, very nearly." I then drew up my legs, which had been
ext 'lided, and took a pencil in my hand to begin observations.
Mr. Coxwell told me that he had lost the use of his hands, which
were black, and I poured brandy over them.
I resumed my observations at 2h. 7m., recording the barometer
reading at 11*53 inches, and temperature minus 2°. It is probable
that three or four minutes passed from the time of my hearing the
words "temperature" and "observation," till I began to observe; if
so, returning consciousness came at 2h. 4m. p.m., and this gives seven
minutes for total insensibility. I found the water in the vessel
supplying the wet-bulb thermometer one solid mass of ice, though
I had, by frequent disturbance, kept it from freezing. It did not all
melt until we had been on the ground some time. Mr. Coxwell told
me that while in the ring he felt it piercingly cold, that hoarfrost
was all round the neck of the balloon, and that on attempting to leave
the ring he found his hands frozen. He had, therefore, to place his
arms on the ring, and drop down. When he saw me he thought for a
moment that I had lain back to rest myself, and he spoke to me
without eliciting a reply ; he then noticed that my legs projected and
my arms hung down by my side, and saw that my countenance was
serene and placid, without the earnestness and anxiety he had observed
before going into the ring : then it struck him that I was insensible.
He wished to approach me, but could not ; and when he felt insensi-
bility coming over him too, he became anxious to open the valve.
But in consequence of having lost the use of his hands he could not
do this; ultimately he succeeded, by seizing the cord with his teeth,
and dipping his head two or three times, until the balloon took a
decided turn downward.
No inconvenience followed my insensibility ; and when we dropped
it was in a country where no conveyance of any kind could be
obtained, so I had to walk between seven and eight miles.
During the descent, which was at first very rapid, the wind was
easterly. To check the rapidity of the descent, sand was thrown out
at 2h. 30m. The wet hull) seemed to he free from- ice at this time,
MR. GLAISHEB INSENSIBLE AT THE HEMiHT OF SEVEN MILES.
ASCENTS FROM WOLVERHAMPTON. 57
but 1 held the hull) between my thumb and finger, for the purpose
of melting any ice remaining on it or the connecting thread. The
readings after this appeared correct. The final descent took place in
the centre of a large grass-field belonging to Mr. Kersall, at Cold
Weston, seven miles and a half from Ludlow.
1 have already said that my last observation was made at a height
of 29,000 feet ; at this time (lh. 54m.) we were ascending at the rate
of 1,000 feet per minute ; and when I resumed observations we were
descending at the rate of 2,000 feet per minute. These two positions
must be connected, taking into account the interval of time between,
viz. 13 minutes. And on these considerations, the balloon must have
attained the altitude of 36,000 or 37,000 feet. Again, a very delicate
minimum thermometer read minus 11.°'9, and this would give a height
of 37,000 feet. Mr. Coxwell, on coming from the ring, noticed that
the centre of the aneroid barometer, its blue hand, and a rope attached
to the car, were all in the same straight line, and this gave a reading
of 7 inches, and leads to the same result. Therefore, these independent
means all lead to about the same elevation, viz. fully seven miles.
In this ascent six pigeons were taken up. One was thrown out at
the height of three miles, when it extended its wings and dropped
like a piece of paper ; the second, at four miles, flew vigorously round
and round, apparently taking a dip each time ; a third was thrown
out between four and five miles, and it fell downwards as a stone.
A fourth was thrown out at four miles on descending ; it flew in
a circle, and shortly alighted on the top of the balloon. The two
remaining pigeons were brought down to the ground. One was found
to be dead ; and the other, a carrier, was still living, but would not
leave the hand when I attempted to throw it off, till, after a quarter of
an hour, it began to peck at a piece of ribbon with which its neck was
encircled ; it was then jerked off the finger, and shortly afterwards
flew with some vigour towards Wolverhampton. One of the pigeons
returned to Wolverhampton on Sunday the 7th, and it was the only
one I ever heard of.
In this ascent, on passing out of the clouds there was an increase
of 9°, and then there was no interruption in the decrease of tempera-
ture till the height of 15,000 feet was reached, when a warm current
of air was entered, which continued to 24,000 feet, after which the
regular decrease of temperature continued to the highest point
reached. On descending, the same current was again met with,
between 22,000 and 23,000 feet. A similar interruption, but to a
greater amount, was experienced till the balloon had descended to
about the same heisrhi in which it was reached on ascending ; after
58
TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
this no further break occurred in the regular increase of temperature,
the sky being clear till the descent was completed. From the general
agreement of the results as observed by Regnault's hygrometer, and
those of the dew-point as found by the dry and wet bulb thermo-
meters, there can be no doubt that the temperature of the dew-
point, at heights exceeding 30,000 feet, must have been as low as
minus 50' below the zero of Fahrenheit's scale, or 82 below the
freezing-point of water, implying that the air was very dry.
THE PIGEONS
THE DEPAKTIKE.
CHAPTER TV
ASCENTS FROM THE CRYSTAL I'AL.U'I
April 18, 1863.
In this ascent the balloon was partially filled during the evening of
April 17, with the view of starting early the following morning. The
atmosphere was at this time thick and misty; the wind on the earth
was N.E., hut pilot balloons on attaining a moderate elevation fell
into a north current. The wind was moving at an estimated velocity
of forty miles an hour, and the ascent was delayed hour after hour,
in the hope that the upper current would change to N.E. At lh.,
when the shy was nearly covered with clouds, and there were
occasionally gleams of sunshine, the ascent was decided upon,
although it was evident it could not be one of long duration, unless
the wind changed its direction, or we resolved to cross the Channel.
Whilst discussing this, the rope, our only connecting link with the
earth, broke, and at lh. 17m. we started very unceremoniously, the
balloon taking a great lurch ; I was thrown among my instruments,
and unfortunately both Daniell's and Regnaalt's hygrometers were
broken. Within three minutes we were more than 3,000 feet high.
At 4,000 feet, cumulus clouds were on our level, and a thick mist
rested everywhere on the earth. At lh. 26m. we were 7,000 feet
60 TRA VELS IN THE AIR.
high, in a thick mist which almost amounted to a fog. The tem-
perature of the air continued at 32° nearly, whilst that of the dew-
point increased several degrees. On passing out of the cloud these
two temperatures very suddenly separated, the latter decreasing
rapidly ; the sky was of a deep blue, without a cloud on its surface.
At lh. 30m. we were 10,000 feet high ; directly under us was a sea
of clouds. The towers of the Crystal Palace were visible, and by
them we found we were moving south.
The temperature before starting was 61° ; it decreased to 32° on
reaching the cloud, and continued at this value whilst in it ; then
suddenly fell to 23^° on leaving the cloud, and was either less or
the same at every successive reading till we reached the height of
20,000 feet, where the lowest temperature was noticed. In passing
above four miles the temperature increased to 14j°, and then declined
to 12^° at the highest point, viz. 24,000 feet, at one hour and thirteen
minutes after starting. When we were just four miles high, on
descending, we began to reflect that possibly we might have been
moving more quickly than we expected, and it was necessary to
descend till we could see the earth below. The valve was opened
rather freely at 2h. 34m., and we fell a mile in three minutes. We
descended quickly, but less rapidly, through the next mile, and
reached the clouds at 12,000 feet from the earth, at 2h. 42m. On
breaking through them at 2h. 44m., still 10,000 feet from the earth,
1 was busy with my instruments, when I heard Mr. Coxwell exclaim,
" What's that ? " He had caught sight of Beechy Head. / looked over
the car, and the sea seemed to be under its. Mr. Coxwell again ex-
claimed, " There's not a moment to spare ; we must save the land at
all risks. Leave the instruments.!' Mr. Coxwell almost hung to the
valve-line, and told me to do the same, and not to mind its cutting
my hand. It was a bold decision, opening the valve in this way, and
it was boldly carried out.
When a mile high, the earth seemed to be coming up to us. There
were two rents in the balloon, cut by the valve-liue; these we could
not heed. Up, up, the earth appeared to come, the fields momentarily
enlarging ; and we struck the earth at 2h. 48m. at Newhaven, very
near the sea — of course with a great crash, but the balloon by the very
free use of the valve-line had been crippled and never rose again,
or even dragged us from the spot on which we fell. Nearly all the
instruments were broken, and to my great regret three very delicate
and beautiful thermometers, specially sent to me by M. A. dAbbadie
for these observations, were all broken. I Mas fortunate, however, in
seizing and pocketing the aneroid barometer which had been up with
ASCENTS FROM THE CRYSTAL PALACE. 61
me in every high ascent. It was this instrument that Mr. Coxwell
read when we were seven miles high, and I at the time in a state ot
insensibility.
The diagram shows the path of the balloon. From this, it will be
seen that the ascent was gradual from 16,000 feet to the highest point,
and there was sufficient time for the instruments to attain the true
temperature. We were above four miles for half an hour, not passing
above 24,000 feet. On passing below four miles it would seem that
the drop to three miles was nearly a straight line, and the next
mile, though occupying a little more time, was passed quickly. The
position of the clouds was fortunately very high, as is shown on
the diagram, as well as the very rapid descent of two miles in four
minutes. The whole time of descending the four miles and a
quarter was about a quarter of an hour only. The diagram will
speak to the eye more forcibly than language, showing as it does
our close proximity to the sea, and the narrow escape from such
a dangerous immersion.
July 11, 1863.
The ascent from the Crystal Palace, duly 11, was intended to have
been one of extreme height, and the promise of success in this
respect was held out until near the time of starting, as pilot balloons
had passed nearly due east, and indicated that our course would have
been towards Devonshire ; but so doubtful is the course a balloon will
take, that no certainty can be felt till the balloon has actually left.
However, on this occasion pilot balloons, though at first moving
towards the east, soon met with a north wind and went south.
Under these circumstances, the attempt to ascend five miles was
abandoned, and we resolved to ascertain, as far as possible, the thick-
ness of the stratum influenced by the east wind, and if possible to
profit by the knowledge and have as long a journey as we could.
At the time of leaving, 4h. 55m. p.m., the sky was nearly covered with
cirrus and cirrostratus clouds, and the wind was blowing due east.
In about four minutes, and when at the height of 2,400 feet, the
balloon suddenly changed from moving towards the west, to moving
due south. At eight minutes past five we were over Croydon, at the
height of 4,600 feet, in mist, but could see the Green Man Hotel,
Blackheath ; we then descended, passing downward through a thick
atmosphere, till at 5h. 32m. we were 2,200 feet high over Epsom Downs,
and again within the influence of the east wind. We then turned
to ascend, and at oh. 52m. were 3,000 feet above Rergate, and we here
62 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
could see Shooter's Hill and the Crystal Palace, by the two towers of
which we found we were again within the influence of a north wind.
We then continued to ascend, with the view of ascertaining if we
could pass above the stratum which was under the influence of the
north wind, at Oh. 16m. ; when at 5,400 feet, the wind shifted to
N.N.W., and the atmosphere became very thick and misty, the sun's
place being just visible. At (3h. 28m. we were 6,600 feet high, and
the sun was wholly obscured ; we descended somewhat, but did not
get below the mist. At Oh. 40m. we were 6,200 feet high, and
directly over Horsham ; and here I essayed to take a photograph, but
from the mist by which we were surrounded, and the dark earth below
— not lighted up at all — I did not succeed. We then ascended to
6,000 feet again to repeat the observations I had made, and found that
the temperature at this elevation in the half-hour had declined 2J or '-\ .
At this time, Oh. 56m., cirri and cirrostratus were very much higher
than ourselves, and we saw the coast near Brighton. A consultation
had been held whilst at this height, with the view of crossing over to
France, but our progress being so slow, the circumstances did not
promise success, so we came down with the view of again falling into
the east wind, supposing it still to be prevalent. We met the north
wind again at about 5,000 feet, and the east wind at exactly the same
height, viz. 2,400 feet, at which we lost it on ascending. We de-
scended to within 1,000 feet of the earth, and were near Worthing,
at about five miles from the coast. We then ascended to 2,700 feet,
and found ourselves moving towards the coast, and therefore within
the influence of a north wind; evidently, therefore, if we wished to
continue our journey, we must keep below 2,400 feet, otherwise we
should be blown out to sea. When again at a height of 2,40.) feet,
we turned to move parallel to the coast, being at this time over
Arundel. Sheep in the fields were evidently very frightened, and
the}' huddled together. We now descended to 800 feet, and thus
journeyed at heights varying from 800 to 1,000 feet, villagers fre-
quently shouting to us to come down, and now and then answering
our questions as to the locality we were in. The cheering cry of
children was frequently heard above all other sounds. Geese cackled,
and, frightened, scuttled off to their farms ; pheasants crowed as thej
were going to roost, and as we approached the end of our journey
packs of dogs barked in the wildest state of excitement, barking at the
balloon. Journeying in this way was most delightful ; all motion
seemed transferred to the landscape itself, which appeared when
looking one way to be rising and coming toward us, and when looking
the other as receding from us. It was charmingly varied with parks,
ASCENTS FROM THE CRYSTAL PALACE.
63
mansions, and white mad-;, and in fact all particulars to make up a
rural scene of character extremely beautiful.
The temperature of the air was 75' on the ground, decreased to 03'
at 2,600 feet, differed but little from 62' between 2,800 and 3,400, and
then declined gradually to 55' at 5,000 feet; at heights exceeding 5, 60l i
feet the temperature differed but little from 53'.
The direction of the wind on the ground was east, at 2,600 feet it
was north, and at heights exceeding 5,400 feet it was X.X.W.
The humidity of the air passing from the east wind at 2,400 feet,
tn the north wind, increased greatly, and continued to increase till
nearly 6,400 feet, when the direction of the wind changed to X.X.W.,
and at heights greater than this there were no clouds, but the air was
very misty.
When we were at the height of 2,600 feet, flat-bottomed cumulus
clouds were at our level. The clouds were entirely within the influence
of the north wind, their under-sides were in contact with the east wind,
with a much drier air, which at once dissipated all vapour in contact
with it, and thus prevented the appearance of flat-bottomed clouds.
My friend Mr. Xasmyth, in a letter to me, says : " The flatness of
the under-sides of the clouds during settled weather appears to me
to rest on the upper surface of a stratum of air which appears to
terminate at the Hue of flat bottom of the cloud." And these are the
exact circumstances in which on this occasion I saw them.
DESCEXT AT NEWHAVBH.
BETWEEN TWO CLOUDS, FOUB MILES HIOH.
('HAPTEl! V
ASCENT FROM WOLVERTON.
Jdnk 26, 1863.
In the ascent from Wolverton on the 26th June, the Directors of the
North.- Western Railway Company provided the gas, and gave every
facility to members of the Committee of the British Association and
their friends to be present. The gasometers at Wolverton are too
small to hold gas enough to fill the balloon : it was therefore partly
inflated the night before, and remained out all night without being
influenced by the slightest wind. The morning of the ascent was also
calm; the sky was of a deep blue, implying the presence of but little
vapour. The atmosphere was bright and clear, and all the circum-
stances were of the most promising kind. The time of ascent was
fixed to take place some little time after the express train from
London should arrive, or at a little after noon ; and the filling was
somewhat delayed, the extraordinary fineness of the morning pro-
mising its completion in a short time. Between eleven and twelve
all these favourable circumstances changed ; the sky became covered
with clouds, and some of them of a stormy character. The wind arose
and blew strongly ; the balloon lurched a great deal. Great difficulty
was experienced in passing the gas into the balloon, and sufficient
could not be passed in by one o'clock. The wind was momentarily
m is Wllilli
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If':' i,
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ill ,(
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ASCENT FROM WOLVEBTON. 67
increasing, and it became very desirable to be away. The greatest
difficulty was experienced in fixing the instruments, and some were
in great danger of being broken by the violent swaying of the balloon
and the incessant striking of the car upon the ground, notwithstand-
ing the exertions of fifty men to hold it fast. At the time of
leaving, the spring-catch was jammed so tight by the pressure of the
wind that it would not act, and we were let free by the simultaneous
yielding of the men, and had to part instantly with ballast to avoid
striking adjacent buildings.
It was three minutes after one when we left the earth, with a strong
W.S.W. "wind : the temperature 65°. In four minutes we were 4,000
feet high, and entered a cloud with a temperature of 50°, experiencing
a most painful feeling of cold. As on all previous occasions, we ex-
pected soon to break through the clouds into a flood of strong sunlight,
with a beautiful blue sky, without a cloud above us, and with seas of
rocky clouds below. But, on the contrary, when we emerged, it was
dark and dull. Above us there were clouds. At 9,000 feet high we
heard the sighing, or rather moaning of the wind as preceding a storm:
it was the first time that I had heard such a sound in the air. We
satisfied ourselves that it was in no way attributable to any move-
ment of the cordage about the balloon, but that it was owing to
conflicting currents of air beneath. At this time we saw the sun
very faintly, and momentarily expected its brilliancy to increase, but
instead of this, although we were now two miles high, we entered
a fog, and entirely lost the sight of it. Shortly afterwards fine
rain fell upon us. Then we entered a dry fog, and at 12,000 feet
passed out of it ; saw the sun again faintly for a short time, and then
entered a wetting fog. At 15,000 feet we were still in fog, but it was
not so wetting. At 10,000 feet we entered a dry fog ; at 17,(>0l) feet
saw faint gleams of the sun, and at the same height we heard a train.
"We were now about three miles high. As we looked around there
were clouds below us, others on our level at a distance, and yet more
above. "We looked with astonishment at each other, and said that
as we were rising steadily we must surely soon pass through them.
At 17,500 feet we were again enveloped in fog, which became
wetting at 18,500 feet. We left this cloud below at 19,600 feet. At
20,000 feet the sun was just visible. We were now approaching four
miles high; clouds, dense clouds, were still above us; for a space of
2,000 to 3,000 feet we met with no fog. but on passing above four
miles high our attention was attracted to a dark mass of cloud, and
then to another on our level. Both these clouds had fringed edg'-s,
and were unmistakably nimbi. Without the slightest doubt they
]■ 2
08 TRAVELS IX THE AIR.
were both rain-clouds. Whilst looking at them we again lost sight
of everything, being enveloped in fog whilst passing upwards through
1,000 feet. At 22,000 feet we emerged again, and were above
clouds on passing above L):'>,i|(>,) feet. At six minutes to two we.
heard a railway train: the temperature here was 18°. I still wished
to ascend to rind the limits ut' this vapour, but Mr. Coxwell knew
better, and I was met with a negative : "Too short of sand. I cannot
go higher; we must not even stop here." 1 was therefore mosl
reluctantly compelled to abandon the wish, and looked scarchingly
around. At this highest point, in close proximity to us, were rain-
clouds; below us, dense fog. 1 was again reminded that we must not
stop here. With a hasty glance everywhere, above, below, all around,
I saw the sky nearly covered with dark clouds of a stratus character,
with cirri still higher, and small spaces of faint blue sky between
them ; the blue was not the blue of four or five miles high, as 1 had
always before seen it, but a faint blue, as seen from the earth when
the air is charged with moisture.
Hastily glancing over the whole scene, there was no extensive, fine,
or picturesque views, as in such situations I had always before seen.
The visible area was limited ; the atmosphere was murky; the clouds
were confused, and the aspect everywhere dull.
I cannot avoid expressing the surprise 1 have felt at the extra-
ordinary power which a situation like this calls forth, when it is felt
that a few moments only can be devoted to note down all appearances
and all circumstances at these extreme positions ; and if not so rapidly
gleaned, they are lost for ever. In such situations every appearance
of the most trivial kind is noticed ; the eye seems to become keener,
the brain more active, and every sense increased in power to meet
the necessities of the case ; and afterwards, when time has elapsed,
it is wonderful how distinctly, at any moment, scenes so witnessed can
be recalled and made to reappear mentally in all their details, so
vividly, that had 1 the power of the painter I could reproduce them
visibly to the eye upon the canvas.
We then began our downward journey, wondering whether we
should meet the same phenomena. Soon we were enveloped in a fog,
but passed below it when at 22,000 feet, and then we saw the sun
faintly. Al 20,000 feet we were in a wetting fog, and passed beneath
it at 19,500 feet, experiencing great chilliness; fog was then above
and below. I now wished to ascend into the fog again, to check
the accuracy of my readings as to its temperature, and the reality
of the chill we had felt. This we did : the temperature rose to its
previous readim*, and fell again on descending.
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ASCENT FROM WOLVERTON. 71
For the next 1,000 feet we passed down through a thick atmo-
sphere, but not in cloud or fog. At the height of 18,000 feet we
were again in fog. At three miles high we were still in fog, and on
passing just below three miles, rain fell pattering on the balloon. This
was one mile higher than we experienced rain on the ascent, but it
was much heavier. On passing below 14,000 feet, and for a space of
nearly 5,000 feet, we passed through a beautiful snowy scene. There
were no flakes in the air — the snow was entirely composed of spicules
of ice, of cross spiculae at angles of 60°, and an innumerable number
of snow crystals, small in size, but distinct and of well-known forms >
easily recognizable as they fell and remained on the coat. This
unexpected meeting with snow on a summer afternoon was all
that was needed on this occasion to complete the experience of the
characteristics of extreme heat of summer with the cold of winter
within the range of a few hours. On passing below the snow, which
we did when about 10,000 feet from the earth, we entered a murky
atmosphere which continued till we reached the ground ; indeed, so
thick and misty was the lower atmosphere, that although we passed
nearly over Ely Cathedral and not far from it, we were unable
to see it. When 5,000 feet high, we were without sand and simply
became a falling body, the rapidity of the fall being checked by
throwing the lower part of the balloon into the shape of a parachute.
The place of descent was in a field on the borders of the counties
of Cambridge and Norfolk, twenty miles from the mouth of the Wash,
and eight miles from Ely.
This Wolverton ascent must rank among the most extraordinary of
my series, giving scientific data of high interest and results most
unexpected. The leading features will be most readily seen by looking
at the diagram, on which the black line shows the path of the balloon,
and the figures near to it the temperature of the air, which will be
seen to decrease from 65° to 18° at the highest point, and to increase to
66° again on descending to the earth. By following the path, clouds
will be seen to be reached at 4,000 feet, and above this an attempt has
been made to show to the eye at a glance the varying strata and their
situations, through which we passed. The bent arrows in the ascending
track are placed where we heard the moaning of the wind. The faint
blue just above is where we saw the sun and momentarily expected
to come within its influence. The rain which fell at 10,000 feet
the partially clear spaces and those of more or less dense fog in the
ascent to the highest point, and the appeal ance of the sky there,
are clearly seen in the diagrams ; as well as the place of re-ascension
in the downward journey to which I have refined. The clear spaces
TRAVELS LX 77/ A' A III.
are those where we were out of fog at 14,000 feet. At a lower level
will be seen the snowstorm of 5,000 feet in thickness, and below that
the thick and misty atmosphere till the earth was reached.
ASCENT FROM THE CRYSTAL I'ALAi E.
July 21, 1863.
The weather on this day was bad, the sky overcast and rainy.
Although in every respect a thoroughly had day, it was well suited
to a particular purpose I had in view, viz. : to investigate, if possible,
some points concerning the formation of rain in the clouds themselves;
to determine why a much larger amount of rain is collected in a
gauge near the surface of the earth than in one placed at an elevation
in the same locality, and whether during rain the air is saturated com-
pletely ; or, if not, to what extent; also to discover the regulating
causes of a rainfall, which sometimes occurs in large drops, at others
in minute particles.
So long hack as the years 1842 and 184:5 1 made many experiments
in order to ascertain why so great a difference in volume was found to
exist in the water collected at lower stations as compared with that
collected at higher.
The experiments which yielded the best results were those in rela-
tion to temperature.
1 always found that when the rain was warm, with respect to the
temperature of the air at the time, no difference existed in the quan-
tities of rain collected at different heights ; but when the temperature
of the rain was lower than the temperature of the air, a considerable
difference existed.
From this circumstance it would appear probable that the difference
in the quantities of rain collected at different heights is owing (at
least in part) to the great condensation of the vapour in the lower
atmosphere, through being in contact with the relatively cold rain.
In this ascent I desired to confirm or otherwise Mr. Green's
deductions.
This gentleman believing that whenever a fall of rain happens
from an overcast sky there will invariably be found to exist another
stratum of cloud at a certain elevation above the first, I determined, if
1 found it so, to measure the space between them and the thickness
of the upper stratum, and to ascertain whether the sun was shining
on its upper surface.
We left the earth at 4h. 52m., and in ten seconds had ascended into
the mist; in twenty seconds, to a level with the clouds, but not
through tin in. At the In ight of 1,200 feet we passed out of this rain.
Patk of the JiaJloon m its ascent fromthfi Crystal Palace
toEppnuj latest, 21st Jdh 1863.
ASCENT FROM THE CRYSTAL PALACE. 73
At the height of 2,800 feet we emerged from clou, Is, and saw a
stratum of darker cloud above ; we then descended to 800 feet, over
the West India Docks, and saw rain falling heavily upon the earth.
None fell upon, the balloon ; that which we saw, therefore, had its
origin within 800 feet of the ground.
We ascended again, and this time passed upwards through fog
1,400 feet in thickness.
At 3,300 feet we were out of cloud, and again saw the dark stratum
at a distance above ; clouds obscured the earth below.
On descending, at 2, 7(H) feet we entered a dry fog, but it became
wetting 100 feet lower down. Alter passing through COO feet of it, the
clouds became more and more wetting, and below were intensely black.
At oh. 28m. we were about 700 feet high, or about 500 feet above
Epping Forest, and heard the noise of the rain pattering upon
the trees.
Again we ascended to 2,000 feet ; then through squalls of rain
and wind descended to_ 200 l'eet, the rain-drops being as large as a
fourpenny-piece, the same as when we left the earth.
O'l reaching the earth, we found that rain had been falling heavily
all the time we were in the air.
Thus this journey gave more information about rain than we ever
before had gained, and which could be obtained by means of the
balloon alone.
XLMDI, OR RAIN-CLOUDS. AEOYE FOCI! JULES HIGH.
THE DESCENT.
(IIAI'TKi; VI.
a s c v. N
F ROM WIN DSO II
May 29, 1866,
Xo ascent had been made in May, and I was anxious to make one
in this month. Mr. Westcar, of the Royal Horse Guards, then
stationed at Windsor, kindly offered the use of his balloon, and
arrangements were made for ascents at different times in May, but, as
is usual, some fruitless attempts were made.
On the 29th of May the balloon was filled early in the afternoon,
and we left at (ih. 14m., about an hour and three-quarters before
sunset, in the hone of being able to remain in the air for as long
a time after sunset.
The temperature of the air at this time was 58°, and 58£c at
Greenwich Observatory. It at once declined on leaving the earth to
55 at 1,200 feet, and to 43D between the heights of 3,600 to 4,600
feet, then further declining to 29^° at the height of 0200 feet, at
7h. 17m. On descending, the temperature increased, hut not uniformly,
to 54c at 8h. 9m. at 380 feet above the sea, when, however, we were
nearly touching the tops of the trees, there being about 3° of less
temperature when at the same height above the sea on rising. Our
object was to be as near the earth as possible at the time of sunsel
ASCENT FROM WINDSOR. 75
and, afterwards, to discharge sand so quickly as to see sunrise again
in the west. We did not succeed. At the time of sunset we were
about GOO feet high, but had just passed over a hill, and on passing
the ridge the balloon had been sucked down, so that it was only by
a free discharge of sand that Mr. Westcar prevented the balloon
coming to the ground. We then again started upon a second ascent,
to be as like the one we had just completed as we coidd make it.
At 8h. 9m. the temperature was 54°. Again the temperature declined,
but somewhat less rapidly than before. On again reaching one mile the
temperature had declined to 39°, and on reaching the height of 6,20J
feet (the same elevation as we were three-quarters of an hour before
sunset), the sun having set nearly twenty minutes, the temperature
was 35°, or about 6° warmer than when at the same elevation some-
thing more than one hour before. On descending, the temperature
changed very little, being 35° to 36° for a thousand feet downwards.
It increased to 37 3 at 4,500, to 47° at 1,500, and to 54° at 900 feet ;
but here the increase was checked, and at 600 feet the temperature
was 52f ° ; on ascending a little, again the temperature increased, it
decreased on descending, and was 50|° on the ground at a spot .">()()
feet above the sea, at half-past eight o'clock. At Greenwich at this
time the temperature of the air was 52°.
At the time of leaving the earth at 6h. 14m. the air at Greenwich
had but three grains of moisture in a cubic foot. At Windsor, n< ar
the Thames, there were 4| grains ; the air was damp : on ascending
the air at first became drier, but at the height of one mile was
saturated, and was very nearly saturated at the same height after
sunset.
Thus the double ascent enables us to compare the temperatures of
the same elevations, just before and just after sunset on the same day,
and to estimate the amount of heat radiated from the earth at about
the time of sunset.
At heights exceeding 2,000 feet the direction of the wind was N.
by W. ; at the height of one mile the air was nearly calm ; and at
heights less than 2,000 feet it was N. by E., and these currents were
met with always at those elevations.
At all times during the ascent, whenever the sun shone upon a
transparent bulb, or a dull blackened bulb thermometer, the reading
was a very little in excess of the reading of a shaded bulb, and was
frequently the same even when the sun's heat felt sensibly warm.
The path of the balloon from Windsor was over Windsor (heat
Park; nearly over Woking at 7h. 43m. ; a little west of Guildford,
where, approaching the coast, at half-past nine, we calculated that the
76 TRAVELS IX THE All;
S"a must be near, and we descended at a place five miles south
of Pulborough.
My attention was almost wholly occupied with the observations ;
Mr. Westcar's chiefly with the management of the balloon: lie
frequently, however, read the several instruments, particularly those
whose bulbs were exposed to the sun's rays.
The safety lamp was burning all the time, thus enabling the instru-
ments to be read after dark.
I till recently believed that this was the first ascent for scientific
purposes, since that of Biot and Oay-Lussac in 1804, in which the
management of the balloon was undertaken by the experimentalists
themselves. But I find I am in error in this respect. My friend
l'Abbe Moigno tells me that MM. Bixio and Banal, in the year 1850,
took the entire management of the balloon in their own hands.
On descending, nearly one hour and a half after sunset, there was
no one near to assist us to empty and pack the balloon. This we had
to do ourselves, and we were preparing to pass the night in the car
of the balloon, when towards midnight a shepherd came by, and we
passed the night in his cottage at the distance of half a mile, leaving
the balloon, &c, in the fields till the morning.
The temperature of the air declined from 58° on the ground to 52°
at 2,000 feet, and somewhat more rapidly to 46°'7 at 3,000 feet ; it
increased to 48°7, or by 2°, in the next 400 feet, and then gradually
declined to 2'.*5-8 at the height of 0,200 feet. On descending, the
temperature increased gradually to 48°'3 at 1,000 feet, and then
much more rapidly to 53°'6 at the height of 500 feet : this rapid
increase was remarkable. On turning to ascend, the sun having set,
the temperature declined pretty equally to the height of 4,000 feet,
and at greater heights with somewhat less regularity, to 34° at 0,000
feet, when the temperature increased to 35°'3 at the height of (5,400
feet : this increase vTas very remarkable. On descending again, the
temperature increased with moderate regularity to 48°-7 at the height
of 1,300 feet, and then with much greater rapidity to 53°8 at the
height of 600 feet, when the increase was arrested, and the tem-
perature at lower elevations rapidly declined to 50° 1 on reaching
the earth. This decline of temperature from 000 feet is remarkable.
By comparing the readings at the same heights before and after
sunset, it will be seen that at the height of 6,000 feet the temperature
was from 5° to 6° warmer after sunset than it was before sunset,
and that the temperatures on the ground and at 1,000 feet high
were nearly the same, whilst at intermediate heights they were
much higher.
AXC EXT FROM WIXDSVll.
i i
The degree of humidity of the air increased from the ground to the
height of 500 feet; from this height to 1,200 feet the air was some-
what less humid, and still less so at heights exceeding 1,200 feet. At
the height of 3,1)0 feet the degree of humidity was 57 only ; the air
Was again wet at 4.800 feet, and somewhat less so at heights exceeding
5,000 feet. On descending, the humidity of the air was more uniform
down to the height of 3,400 feet, and below this the air was less
humid than at the same elevations on the ascent, particularly at low
elevations. On descending below 400 feet, I packed up the instru-
ments for fear of the balljo.i striking the ground; at this time the
sun was setting. On ascending again, after sunset, the air was more
and more humid, and most so at 6,300 feat ; the same result we found
in the descent, to the height of 600 feet, where the degree of
humidity was (il ; an 1 it increased to (IS on the ground.
THE COTTAC
FILLING A BALLOON.
CHAPTER VIT.
() V E K L 0 N D O N 11 Y D A Y.
March 31, 1863.
The day was favourable ; the wind was from the east, in gentle motion ;
the sky was blue and almost cloudless. The earth was left at 4h. 16m.
P.M., and we passed upwards with very nearly an even motion to the
height of 19,000 feet, continued at about this level for some little
time, and then gradually ascended to 24,000 feet, which we reached
at 5h. 28m., or in one hour and twelve minutes after starting. We
then let out gas, and never have I seen the opening of the valve
exercise such an effect, for though it seemed to be but momentary, we
fell in consequence a mile and a quarter in four minutes. Happily
we had enough sand to contend with this difficulty, and checked the
descent by parting with it, and for half an hour we kept nearly upon
the same level, between 15,000 and 16,000 feet high. After this we
gradually and almost continuously fell, and reached the earth at
(ih. 26m., effecting the descent in fifty-eight minutes from the place
where the balloon was at its secondary station.
The temperature of the air on the earth on leaving was 50°. At
4h. 25m., at the height of one mile, it was 3.31° ; the second mile was
reached at 4h. 35m., with a temperature of 2(3°; the third mile at
4h. 44m., when the temperature was 14 ; and at 3| miles high the
OVER LONDON BY DAY. 79
temperature was 8°. A warm current of air was here met with, and
the temperature rose to 12 ; at 4h. 58m. ; at 5h. 2m. the warm current
was passed, and when 4i miles high the temperature was just zero of
Fahrenheit's scale.
In descending, the temperature increased to 11°, at about three
miles high ; then a cold current was met with, and it fell to 7°. This
was soon passed, and the temperature increased to 18| at two miles
high, to 2."U° at one mile, and to 42° on the ground, showing a decrease
of 8° of temperature during the 2h. 10m. between the two observa-
tions. On comparing the leadings of thermometers at the same height
during the ascents with those during the descents, all the latter
were lower, showing that the whole mass of air was of lower tempera-
ture than that in immediate contact with the earth, but to a smaller
amount. The air was dry before leaving ; it became very dry at
heights exceeding two miles, and at heights exceeding four miles the
temperature of the metallic cup of Eegnault's hygrometer was lowered
to nearly minus 40", and no dew was deposited on its surface. The
temperature of each layer of air was different, according to its direc-
tion of motion, and there were several currents met with. Within two
miles of the earth the wind was east ; between two and three miles
high it Mas directly opposite, viz. west, About three miles it was
north-east ; higher still it changed to the opposite — south-west ; and
from about four miles to the highest point reached, it was west.
We left the Crystal Palace, therefore, with an east wind, and at
about 4h. 48m. the Palace appeared directly under us.
When one mile high the deep sound of London, like the roar of
the sea, was heard distinctly ; its murmuring noise was heard at
greater elevations. At the height of three and four miles the view
was indeed wonderful : the plan-like appearance of London and its
suburbs ; the map-like appearance of the country generally ; and the
winding Thames, leading the eye to the white cliffs at Margate and on
to Dover, were sharply defined. Brighton was seen, and the sea beyond,
and all the coast line up to Yarmouth. The north was obscured by
clouds. Looking underneath, and to the south, there were many
detached cumuli clouds, and in some places a solitary cloud ; all
apparently resting on the earth. Towards Windsor the Thames looked
like burnished gold, and the surrounding water like bright silver.
Eailway trains were like creeping things, caterpillar-like, and the steam
like a narrow line of serpentine mist. All the docks were mapped
out, and every object of moderate size was clearly seen with the naked
eye. Taking a grand view of the whole visible area beneath, I was
struck with its great regularity : all was dwarfed to one plane ; it
80
TEA VELS IN THE Mil.
seemed too flat, too even, apparently artificial The effect of the river
scenery in this respect was remarkable ; the ships, visible eveD beyond
the Medway, looked like toys.
At the height of three miles and a half Mr. Coxwell said my face
was of a glowing purple, and higher still both our faces were blue.
At heights. exceeding three miles, our feet and the tips of our fingers
were very cold. The sky was of a deep prussian blue. When three
miles high, on descending, Mr. Coxwell, forgetful of the fact that the
grapnel had been exposed to a temperature of zero, incautiously took
hold of it with his naked hand, and cried out, as in pain, that he was
scalded, and called on me to assist in dropping it. The sensation was
exactly that of scalding. The blackness creeping over the land at
sunset, whilst the sun was still shining on us, was remarkable. We
reached the ground at Oh. 3m., near Barking, in Ksscx.
OVER LONDON BY NIOHT.
Ascent from Woolwich Arsenal, October 2, 1865.
When the sun had set for nearly three-quarters of an hour, and
night had fairly set in, the moon shining brightly, and the sky free
from cloud, the balloon left Wo dwieh Arsenal at 6h. 20m., the tem-
perature at the time being 56°. Within three or four minutes a height
of 900 feet was reached, and till this tims I had fade, I in directum
the light of the Davy lamp properly. When I succeeded, the tem-
perature was 57" and increasing; on reaching 1,200 feet high it had
increased to 58°"9. We then descended to 900 feet, and the tempera-
ture decreased to 57"8 ; on beginning to ascend again the temperature
increased to 59 0 at 1,900 feet high, being 3J° warmer than when the
earth was left. On descending again the temperature decreased to 574
at the height of 600 feet, and in the several subsequent ascents
and descents the temperature increased with elevation, and de-
creased on approaching the earth. On every occasion the highest
temperature was met with at the highest point. This result was
remarkable indeed. The different degrees of the humidity of the air
met with in this ascent are no less remarkable. Considering saturated
air as represented by loo. at the commencement of the ascent in the
balloon it was 95 ; at Greenwich Observatory it was 84; towards ll.e
end of the ascent in the balloon it was So, and at (Jr-'cnwich was 97.
The state of things was therefore reversed, and would indicate that
the water in the air had fallen. Its amount at the beginning of the
ascent was 5J grains in a cubic foot of air, and at the same elevation
was \\ grains in the same mass of air al the end of lite ascent.
OVER LONDON BY NIGHT. SI
The readings of the instruments were taken very slowly, owing to
the difficulty experienced in directing the light properly. I failed in
all magnetic experiments, and indeed in nearly all hut those relating
to temperature and humidity. Two self-registering minimum thermo-
meters were tied down, one with its bulb resting on cotton wool, fully
exposed to the sky, and the other with its bulb projecting beyond the
supporting frame ; their indexes were at the end of their columns of
spirit on starting, or at 56°. At every examination of each of these
instruments a space was found between its index (which remained
unmoved) and the end of the column of spirit, indicating a temperature
higher than before leaving, and it was closely approximate at all times
to the temperature of the air. Consequently, notwithstanding the
clearness of the sky, the loss of heat by radiation must have been
small. No ozone was shown at the Eoyal Observatory, but in the
balloon paper tests were coloured to 4, on a scale where greatest
intensity was considered 10.
At the early part of this ascent I was wholly occupied with the
instruments, and when at the height of about 1,000 feet the view
which suddenly opened far exceeds description. Almost immediately
under, but a little to the south-east, was Woolwich ; north was Black-
wall ; south, Greenwich and Deptford ; and Avest, as far as the eye
could reach, was London — the whole forming a starry spectacle of
such brilliancy as far to exceed anything I ever saw. When I have
been at this elevation in the evening, at a distance from London, it
has had the appearance of a vast conflagration, but on this night
the air was so clear and free from haze that each and every light
was distinct, and they seemed all but touching each other.
The whole of Woolwich, Blackwall, Deptford, and Greenwich could
be traced as a perfect model by the line of lights of their streets
and squares. In nine minutes we were opposite Brunswick Pier,
Blackwall, crossing the Thames ; we then passed across the Isle
of Dogs, Greenwich Beach, and so up the river Thames. As we
advanced towards London, the mass of illumination increased in
intensity. At Oh. 42m. the South-Eastern Railway Terminus at
London Bridge was directly under us ; looking southward at this
time we saw the Borough stretching far away, and the many streets
shooting from it, particularly Southwark Street, with its graceful
curve of lamps. In one minute more we were over Southwark
Bridge, 1,300 feet high, passed Blackfriars Bridge at 6h. 45m., and
C'haiing Cross at 6h. 47m.
On leaving Charing Gross I looked back over London, the model
of which could be seen and traced— its squares by their lights; the
G
82 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
river, which looked dark and dull, by the double row of lights on
every bridge spanning it. Looking round, two of the illuminated
dials of Westminster clock were like two dull moons. Again,
looking eastward, the whole lines of the Commercial and White-
chapel roads, with their continuations through Holborn to Oxford
Street, were visible, and most brilliant and remarkable. We were
at such a distance from the Commercial Road that it appeared like a
line of brilliant fire, assuming a more imposing appearance when the
line separated into two, and most imposing just under us in Oxford
Street, Here the two thickly-studded rows of brilliant lights were
seen on either side of the street, with a narrow dark space between,
and this dark space was bounded, as it were, on both sides by a
bright fringe like frosted silver. At first I could not account for
this appearance ; but presently, at one point more brilliant than
the rest, persons were seen passing, their shadows being thrown on
the pavement, and at once it was evident this rich effect was caused
by the bright illumination of the shop-lights on the pavements.
I feel it impossible to convey any adequate idea of the brilliant
effect of London, viewed at an elevation of 1,300 feet, on a clear
night, when the air is free from mist.
It seemed to me to realize a wish I have felt when looking through
a telescope at portions of the Milky Way, when the field of view
appeared covered with gold-dust, to be possessed of the power to
see those minute spots of light as brilliant stars ; for certainly the
intense brilliancy of London this night must have rivalled such a view.
We were over the Marble Arch at 6h. 51m., about eleven miles in
a straight line from AVoolwich, which distance had been passed in
about half an hour. We therefore were travelling at more than
twenty miles an hour. On passing onwards we left the Edgeware
Load on our right, and the Great Western Railway on our left, and
passed nearly down the Harrow Load. In six or seven minutes
we left the suburbs of London, passing over Middlesex in the
direction of Uxbridge: there the contrast was great indeed; not
a single object could anywhere be seen, not a sound reached the
ear ; the roar of London was entirely lost. The moon was shining,
but seemed to give no light; and the earth could not be seen.
Alter a time the moon seemed to shine with increased brightness;
the fields gradually came into view, then the shadow of the balloon
on the earth was seen distinctly pointing out our path, which, by
reference to the pole-star and the moon, became well known to us.
After this, occasional masses of lights appeared as we passed over
towns and villages. Thus we passed out of Middlesex, over parts of
OVER LONDON BY NIGHT.
83
Buckinghamshire and Berkshire, to Highmoor, in Oxfordshire, where
we descended on the farm of Mr. Beeves at 8h. 20m., distant about
forty-five miles from Woolwich. The horizontal movement of the air
at Greenwich in the same time was registered as sixteen miles.
Unfortunately, Mr. Orton believed we were near the sea, and,
notwithstanding my assertions and assurances to the contrary, he
suddenly brought the balloon to the ground, and broke nearly all
the instruments; the lamp was lost, but an offered reward brought
it to me a fortnight afterwards in a very battered condition.
The results of this first night experiment are very valuable ; and, so
far as one experiment can give, indicate that on a clear night the tem-
perature, up to a certain elevation, increases with increase of elevation.
The temperature of the dew-point increased on ascending to the
height of 900 feet, then decreased, the air becoming drier, or the
degree of humidity less; at heights exceeding 1,200 feet the degree
of humidity was nearly the same as at heights less than 9U0 feet.
On descending, the temperature of the dew-point decreased, and
the air was driest at about the height of 1,000 feet; at heights
less than 1,000 feet the temperature of the dew-point increased,
and the degree of humidity increased till the ground was reached.
The temperature of the air was the lowest on the ground, and
increased with elevation to the height of 2,000 feet, the highest
point attained ; and on the descent it decreased with decrease of
elevation, and was lowest on reaching the ground.
T1IF. SUBURBS it LONDON IX Till'. DISTANCE.
a 2
Tin: UOON WAS SHINING, BIT SEEMED
CHAPTEE VIII.
DECREASE OF TEMPERATURE WITH ELEVATION.
The few ascents which I have chosen are sufficient to show that
the decrease of temperature is very far from constant. It follows,
therefore, that we must entirely abandon the theory of a decline of
one degree of temperature for every increase of 300 feet of elevation.
It is necessary to renounce this ideal regularity upon which we have
heen dependent in determining the co-efficient of refraction. The
differences have heen immense ; even with a clear sky, the most
favourable for establishing a mean, the figures vary very greatly — that
is to say, within 100 feet near to the earth we now know there may
he a decline of temperature of several degrees dining the mid-hours
of the day, and that during the mid-hours of the night there may he,
and generally is, an increase of several degrees.
The decline of temperature near the earth was found to he different
according to the more or less cloudy state of the sky, being more
rapid when the latter was clear than when cloudy ; it was, therefore,
found necessary to separate the experiments made in one state of the
sky from those made in the other. Collecting the results together,
the general result of all the mid-day experiments is as follows : —
The change from the ground to 1,000 feet high was 40-5 with a
cloudy sky, and 60,2 with a clear skv. At 10,000 feet high it was
DECREASE OF TEMPERATURE WITH ELEVATION. 85
2°-2 with a cloudy sky, and 2°'0 with a clear sky. At 20,000 feet
high the decline of temperature was l°'l with a cloudy sky, and 1°2
with a clear sky. At 30,000 feet high the whole decline of tem-
perature was found to be 62°. Within the first 1,000 feet the average
space passed through for 1° was 223 feet with a cloudy sky, and 162
feet with a clear sky. At 10,000 feet the space passed through for a
like decline was 455 feet for the former, and 417 feet for the latter ;
and ahove 20,000 feet high the space with both states of the sky was
1,000 feet nearly for a decline of one degree.
As regards the law thus indicated, it is far more natural and
far more consistent than that of a uniform rate of decrease. The
results here spoken of have relation to experiments made during
the hours of the day ; near the earth they do not hold good during
the hours of the night, nor are they of universal application during
the day, as the following experiences Mill prove.
In my ascent on January 12, 1804, the temperature of the air
before starting was 41 i° ; it then decreased very slowly till 1,300 feet
was reached, when a warm current was met with, and at 3,000 feet
the temperature was 45°, being 3^° warmer than on the ground, and
for the next 3,000 feet the temperature was higher than on the earth.
It then gradually fell to 11° at 11,500 feet, and remained at this read-
ing till 12,000 feet was reached.
In this ascent the wind on the earth was S.E. At the height of
1,300 feet the balloon entered a strong S.W. current. This direction
continued up to 4,000 feet, when the wind was from the S. At the
height of 8,000 feet the wind changed to S.S.W., and afterwards to
S.S.E. At 11,000 feet we met with fine granular snow, and passed
through snow on descending, till within 8,000 feet of the earth. We
entered clouds at 7,000 feet, and passed out of them at 0,000 feet
into mist.
A warm current of air was met with, of more than 3,000 feet in
thickness, moving from the S.W. ; that is to say, in the direction of
the Gulf Stream. This was the first time a stream of air of higher
temperature than on the earth had been encountered. Above this the
air was dry, and higher still very dry. Fine granular snow was falling
into this current of warm air.
The meeting with this S.W. current is of the highest importance,
for it goes far to explain why England possesses a winter temperature
so much higher than is due to our northern latitudes. Our high
winter temperature has hitherto been mostly referred to the influence
of the Gulf Stream. Without doubting the influence of this natural
agent, it is necessary to add the effect of a parallel atmospheric
86 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
current to the oceanic current coming from the same regions — a true
aerial Gulf Stream. This great energetic current meets with no
obstruction in coming to us or to Norway, but passes over the level
Atlantic without interruption from mountains.
It cannot, however, reach France without crossing Spain and the
lofty range of the Pyrenees, and the effect of these cold mountains in
reducing its temperature is so great, that the former country derives
bat little warmth from it.
I will now say a few words in relation to the very exceptional
temperatures met with in my ascent of Cth of April, 1864. This
ascent had been arranged to take place as near to March 21 as
possible, but the weather was so exceptionable that, although fre-
quent attempts were made, it was not till the 6th of April that an
ascent could be made
On that day the balloon left Woolwich at 4h. 7m. P.M., with a S.E.
wind. In nine minutes, when at the height of 3,000 feet, we crossed
over the river Thames, ascending very evenly at the rate of 1,000 feet
in three minutes, till 11,000 feet was reached, at 4h. 37m. We then
descended at about the same rate, till within 1,5C0 feet of the earth,
when we checked the rapidity of the descent, and reached the ground
on the outskirts of a pine plantation in Wilderness Park, near Seven-
oaks, in Kent.
This ascent is remarkable for the small decrease in temperature
with increase of elevation. The temperature of the air was 45^° on
leaving the earth ; it did not decline at all till after 300 feet had been
passed, and then it decreased pretty gradually to 33° when 4,300 feet
was reached ; a warm current was then entered, and the temperature
increased to 40° at 7,500 feet, the same as at 1,500 feet; it decreased
to 34° at 8,800 feet, and then increased slowly to 37° nearly, at 11,000
feet, a temperature which had been experienced at the heights of 8,500,
6,500, and at 3,000 feet in ascending.
On descending, the temperature increased about 9° in the first 1,000
feet ; and after remaining at about this temperature till within 7,000
feet of the earth, it gradually decreased to 40° at 3,000 feet, remained
at about this point till within 1,500 feet of the earth; and then
increased to 46° on the ground.
Our course in this ascent was most remarkable. After passing over
the Thames into Essex, we must have reerossed the river, and moved
in an entirely opposite direction till we approached the earth again,
when our direction was the same as at first.
The temperatures met with on June 13,1864,arealsoveryremarkable.
On this occasion the balloon left the grounds of the Crystal Palace
Vincent Brook s. Day & Son.Lith.
Temperature of the Air at different heights
observed in the Ascent and descent .
B* April L86+.
DECREASE OF TEMPERATURE WITH ELEVATION. 87
at seven o'clock. The sky was cloudless and the air perfectly clear,
excepting in the direction of London. An elevation of 1,000 feet was
reached in \\ min. and 3,000 feet at 7h. 8m., when the balloon began
to descend, and passed down to 2,300 feet by 7h. 13m. ; on re-ascending
3,400 feet was gained at 7h. 20m. ; after taking a slight dip the balloon
again ascended to 3,550 feet (the highest point) by 7h. 28m. ; it then
descended to 2,500 feet, and, after several small ascents, began the
downward journey at 7h. 50m. from the height of 2,800 feet, and
reached the ground at East Horndon, five miles from Brentwood,
at 8h. 14m.
The temperature of the air on the ground before starting was 62°,
declining evenly with increase of elevation till 3,000 feet was reached,
when it was 51^° ; on descending, the temperature was ftmnd to be 54°
at 2,300 feet ; the balloon then re-ascended, the temperature declining
gradually to 3,100 feet, when it began to increase, reaching 49° at
3,450 feet, above which height it declined to 47° at 3,540 feet ; on again
descending it increased evenly, till at 2,700 feet the thermometer read
51°, and remained about the same for 200 feet; on re-ascending the
temperature scarcely differed from 51° till 3,000 feet was gained,
when a sudden decrease of 2° occurred in the following 35 feet ; then
began our final descent, the temperature remaining the same for 400
feet ; it then increased to 51^° at 2,000 feet, and to 53°-2 at 1,800 feet,
below which there was scarcely any alteration till the earth was
reached. This fact of no change in the temperature of the air at the
time of sunset was very remarkable, for it indicated that if such on
this occasion was not an accidental circumstance, the law of decrease
of temperature with increase of elevation might be reversed at night
for some distance from the earth.
From all the experiments it appeared that the change of tempera-
ture near the earth varied greatly in different ascents, and followed no
constant law.' It no doubt depended on the time of day ; but the ascents
were so few in number and so irregularly scattered over the months of
the year, that I was unable to determine the law even approximately.
The great Captive Balloon at Ashburnham Park seemed admirably
adapted to settle this point, and M. Giffard, its proprietor, most
kindly placed it at my disposal for any series of experiments I was
desirous of making. The balloon on a calm day could ascend to the
height of 2,000 feet, its rate of ascent and descent could be regulated
at will, and it could be kept stationary at any elevation. The observa-
tions made in nearly thirty ascents are published in the Transactions
of the Sections in the lieport of the Meeting of the British Association
at Exeter, 1869.
88 TRA VELS IX THE AIM.
The numbers in those Tables verify the indications of the several
free ascents, viz. that the decrease of temperature with increase of eleva-
tion has a diurnal range, and depends upon the hour of the day, the
changes being the greatest at mid-day and the early part of the after-
noon, and decreasing to about sunset, when with a clear sky there is
little or no change of temperature for several hundred feet from the
earth, whilst with a cloudy sky the change decreases from the mid-day
hours at a less rapid rate to about sunset, when the decrease is nearly
uniform and at the rate of 1° in 200 feet. I was not able to take
any observations after sunset ; but such observations are greatly
needed, as there seems to be a very great probability that the tem-
perature at the height of 1,000 feet may not undergo a greater range
of temperature during the night than during the day hours ; and if
this be the case, the temperature at night must increase from the
ground with elevation. This inference seems to be confirmed by the
after-sunset observations of Oct. 2, 1865, but it is very desirable and
important that the fact should be verified or contradicted by direct
experiments. The law with a clear sky may be thus represented.
Take the heights as ordinates of a curve of which the corresponding-
changes of temperature are the corresponding abscissa? (considered
positive when the temperature decreases, i.e. so that a decrease
of 10° at 1,000 feet would correspond to a point on the curve whose
positive abscissa is 10 and ordinate 1,000) : then the curve thus
formed will be somewhat hyperbolic (for the changes are greatest
near the earth), the concavity being turned towards the origin, which
we may call the axis. The concavity will be greatest when the curve
represents the decline of temperature at a time soon after mid-day ;
but as the afternoon advances the curve gradually closes up to and
coincides with the axis at or about sunset, becoming then recti-
linear; after passing this critical position, in which the temperature
is uniform and equal to that on the earth for the first 1,000 feet, the
curve probably becomes hyperbolic again, its concavity still being
turned towards the axis, so that an increase of temperature corre-
sponds to an increase of height, and the extreme position is reached
probably at or soon after midnight, when the curve returns as before,
the motion being probably nearly symmetrical on both sides of the
axis, and the time of a complete oscillation twenty-four hours. These
changes, however, are confined to the lower regions of the atmosphere :
at heights exceeding a certain elevation varying with the season of
the year, there can be no doubt that the general law shows a con-
tinuous decline with elevation.
BLACKENED BULB THERMOMETER. 89
THE ANEROID BAROMETER.
The first aneroid barometer which I had made for those observations
read correctly at 30 inches, and 0-l inch too high at 25 inches;
the error increased to 07 inch at 14 inches, but decreased to 0-5 inch
at 11 inches. A second aneroid read very nearly the same as the mer-
curial barometer, from 30 inches to 12 inches. A third graduated down
to 5 inches, and, most carefully made and tested under the air-pump
before use, read the same as the mercurial barometer throughout the
high ascent to seven miles on Sept. 5, 1862. I have taken this
instrument up with me in every subsequent high ascent, and it has
always read the same as the mercurial barometer. These experiments
prove that an aneroid can be made to read correctly at low pressures.
I may mention that on several occasions aneroid barometers have been
taken whose graduations have been too limited for the heights reached :
these have not broken or become deranged by being subjected to a
much less pressure than they were prepared for, but have resumed their
readings on the pressure again coming within their graduations.
BLACKENED BULB THERMOMETER.
A dull, blackened bulb thermometer, in ran/o, with its bulb project-
ing beyond the car in such a position as to receive all the sun's rays,
and to show their maximum effect, never read but a few degrees higher
than the temperature of the air, whilst another placed with its bulb
near to the centre of the table carrying the several instruments read
several degrees higher still ; but in no instance has the blackened bulb
thermometer, after leaving the earth, read as high as it did when
exposed to the full rays of the sun on the earth.
The fact that the readings of a blackened bulb thermometer with
its bulb projecting into space, free from the influence of any body near
to it, were lower than those of a similar thermometer placed with its
bulb near to a body upon which the sun's rays are arrested, is in
agreement with all similar experiments I have made. In my paper
" On the Radiation of Heat from the Earth," published in the Philo-
sophical Transactions for 1847, I have remarked that a thermometer
with its bulb in free space, so as to be fully in the passing sun-
beams at the height of 14 feet from the soil, never read higher than
an instrument placed in air, shaded from the sun in the hottest day
in summer.
From all these experiments it seems that the heat rays, in their
passage from the sun, pass the small bulb of a thermometer, communi-
cating very little or no heat to it. Similar results were obtained by
00 TRA VELS IN THE AIR.
the use of Herschel's actinometer on every occasion that I had an
opportunity of using it.
THE LINES IN THE SPECTRUM.
At every examination, when the spectroscope was directed to the
sun, a magnificent spectrum was seen, with very numerous lines, ex-
tending from a to far beyond n, the latter line appearing not nebulous,
but made up of many very line lines ; at times no spectrum was seen,
when the spectroscope was directed to the sky far from the sun.
TIME OF VIBRATION OF A MAGNET.
In every ascent I made many attempts to obtain the time of
vibration of a horizontal magnet at different elevations in the higher
regions of the atmosphere, but I failed at every trial in the ascents on
August 31, Sept. 29, Oct. 9, Jan. 12, April 6, June 13, and June 20.
In the ascent on June 27 there were frequent periods of ten to fifteen
minutes when the car was very steady, so that I was enabled
to take the time of vibration as accurately as on the ground. The
results of ten different sets of observations proved undoubtedly that
the time of vibration was longer than on the earth. In the ascent
on August 29 the balloon was constantly revolving both in ascending
and descending, but was free from oscillation for fully a quarter of an
hour at the highest point, viz. nearly three miles, and the time of
vibration was again found to be longer than on the earth.
DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS OF THE WIND AT DIFFERENT ELEVATIONS.
The balloon in almost every ascent was under the influence of
currents of air in different directions. The thicknesses of these
currents were found to vary greatly. The direction of the wind On
the earth was sometimes that of the whole mass of air up to 20,000
feet nearly, whilst at other times the direction changed within 500
feet of the earth. Sometimes directly opposite currents were met with
at different heights in the same ascent, and three or four streams of
air more than once were encountered moving in different directions.
THE VELOCITY OF THE WIND.
Notwithstanding the different currents of air which caused the
balloon to change its direction, and at times to move in entirely
opposite directions ; yet, neglecting all these and all upward and
downward motion, and simply taking into account the places of
ascent and descent, the distances thus measured were always very
THE VELOCITY OF THE WIND. 91
much greater than the horizontal movement of the air as measured
by anemometers. It may he interesting to note some instances of
this, which are as follows : — ■
Velocity of the Wind h// the Balloon, and by Robinson's Anemometer
at the Royal Observatory, Greenicieh.
On March 31, 1863, the balloon left the Crystal Palace, Sydenham,
at 4h 16m. p.m., and fell at Barking, in Essex, a point fifteen miles
from the place of ascent, at 6h. 30m. p.m. Neglecting all motion of
the balloon, excepting the distance between the places of ascent and
descent, its hourly velocity was seven miles ; the horizontal movement
of the air of Greenwich, as shown by Robinson's anemometer, was five
miles per hour.
On April 18 the balloon left the Crystal Palace at lh. 16m. p.m.,
and descended at Newhaven at 2h. 46m. The distance is about forty-
five miles, passed over in an hour and a half, or at the rate of thirty
miles per hour. Robinson's anemometer had registered less than two
miles per hour.
On June 26 the balloon left "Wolverton at lh. 2m. p.m., and fell at
Littleport at 2h. 28m. p.m. The distance between these two places is
sixty miles ; the hourly velocity was therefore forty-two miles per hour.
The anemometer at Greenwich registered ten miles per hour.
On July 11 the balloon left the Crystal Palace at 4h. 53m. p.m., and
fell at Goodwood at 8h. 50m. p.m., having travelled seventy miles, or
at the rate of eighteen miles per hour. The anemometer at Greenwich
registered less than two miles per hour.
On July 21 the balloon left the Crystal Palace at 4h. 52m. p.m., and
fell near Waltham Abbey, having travelled about twenty-five miles in
fifty- three minutes, or at the rate of twenty-nine miles per hour. The
horizontal movement of the air by Robinson's anemometer was at the
rate of ten miles per hour.
On September 29, 1864, the balloon left "Wolverhampton at 7h. 43m.,
and fell at Sleaford, a point ninety-five miles from the place of ascent,
at 10b. 30m. a.m. During this time the horizontal movement of the
air was thirty-three miles, as registered at Wrottesley Observatory.
On October 9 the balloon left the Crystal Palace at 4h. 29m. p.m.,
and descended at Pirton Grange, a point thirty-five miles from the
place of ascent, at 6h. 30m. p.m. Robinson's anemometer during this
time registered eight miles at the Royal Observatory, Greenwich, as
the horizontal movement of the air.
On January 12, 1865, the balloon left the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich,
at 2h. 8m. p.m., and descended at Lakenheath. a point seventy miles
92 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
from the place of ascent, at 4h. 10m. p.m. At the Royal Observatory,
by Robinson's anemometer, during this time the motion of the air was
six miles only.
On April 6 the balloon left the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich, at
4h. 8m. P.M. Its correct path is not known, as it entered several
different currents of air, the earth being invisible owing to the mist ;
it descended at Sevenoaks, in Kent, at 5h. 17m. P.M., a point fifteen
miles from the place of ascent. Five miles was registered during this
time by Robinson's anemometer at the Royal Observatory, Greenwich.
On June 13 the balloon left the Crystal Palace at 7h. 0m. p.m., and
descended at East Horndon, a point twenty miles from the place of
ascent, at 8h. 15m. P.M. Robinson's anemometer during this time
registered seventeen miles at the Royal Observatory, Greenwich.
On August 29 the balloon left the Crystal Palace at 4b, 6m. r.M.,
and descended at Weybridge at 5h. 30m. p.m., a point thirteen miles
from the place of ascent. During this time fifteen miles was re-
gistered by Robinson's anemometer at the Royal Observatory,
( Greenwich.
PHYSIOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS.
The number of pulsations usually increased with elevation, as also
the number of inspirations : the number of my pulsations was generally
7G per minute before starting, about 00 at 10,000 feet, 100 at 20,000
feet, and 110 at higher elevations; but the increase of height was not
the only element, for the number of pulsations depended also on the
health of the individual. They also, of course, varied in different
persons, depending much on their temperament. This was the case,
too, in respect to colour ; at 10,000 feet the face of some would lie of
a glowing purple, whilst others would scarcely be affected. At 17,000
feet my lips were blue; at 19,000 feet both my hands and lips were
dark blue ; at four miles high the pulsations of my heart were
audible, and my breathing was very much affected ; at 29,000 feet I
became insensible. Prom all the observations it would seem that
the effect of high elevation affected every one, but was different upon
the same individual at different times.
OX THE PROPAGATION OF SOUNDS.
It was at all times found that sounds from the earth were more or
less audible, according to the amount of moisture in the air. When
in clouds at four miles high, I heard a railway train ; but when
clouds were far below, no sound ever reached the ear at this elevation.
At the height of 10,000 feet the discharge of a nun has been heard ■
ON THE PROPAGATION OF SOUNDS.
93
and 1 believe that a sound like thunder, which we heard when at a
height of 20,000 feet above Birmingham, was due to the firing of
some guns that were being proved there. The barking of a little dog
has been heard at the height of two miles, whilst a multitude of people
shouting has not been heard at 4,000 feet. So that some notes and
sounds pass more readily through the air than others.
Such are some of the results derived from observations in balloons
in England ; but this country is of too small an area for such experi-
ments. Wolverhampton was chosen for its central position, but in an
hour or two Ave were always compelled to descend ; whatever part of
England we start from, in one hour we may be over the sea ; and
if we have been this time above the clouds, ignorant whether our
motion has been small or at the rate of seventy or eighty miles an
hour, we must penetrate them, and then our power is gone ; — we have
had to part with our ballast to ascend, and now we have parted with
gas also ; we cannot ascend again ; and thus, whether our fears are
groundless or no, the series of observations is limited.
Far better coidd the experiments be made in France, or on a large
continent ; and I earnestly trust that the country to which we owe
the Balloon will utilize yet more her great invention for increase of
knowledge ; and it wdl be indeed strange if that generous and intel-
ligent nation, which has placed so admirable an instrument at the
disposal of the learned in all countries, for exploration of the higher
regions, should be behindhand in its use.
Ai'TEE A TIME THE MOON SHONE WITH INCCEASEB BRIGHTNESS.
THE RAINBOW.
CHAPTEB IX.
THE II I C II HE CIO MS.
Above the clouds the balloon occupies the centre of a vast hollow
sphere, of which, the lower portion is generally cut off by a horizontal
plane. This section is in appearance a vast continent, often without
intervals or breaks, and separating us completely from the earth. No
isolated clouds hover above this plane. "We seem to be citizens of the
skv, separated from the earth by a barrier which seems impassable.
We are free from all apprehension such as may exist when nothing
separates us from the earth. We can suppose the laws of gravitation
are for a time suspended, and in the upper world, to which Ave
seem now to belong, the silence and quiet are so intense that peace
and calm seem to reign alone.
Above our heads rises a noble roof — a vast dome of the deepest
blue. In the east may perhaps lie seen the tints of a rainbow on the
point of vanishing ; in the west the sun silvering the edges of broken
clouds. Below these light vapours may rise a chain of mountains, the
Alps of the sky, rearing themselves one aboA'e the other, mountain
above mountain, till the highest peaks are coloured by the setting sun.
Some of these compact masses look as if ravaged by avalanches, or
rent by the irresistible movements of glaciers. Some clouds seem built
up of quartz, or oven diamonds; some, like immense cones, boldly lise
THE HIGH REGIONS. 95
upwards ; others resemble pyramids whose sides are in rough outline.
These scenes are so varied and so beautiful that we feel that we could
remain for ever to wander above these boundless planes. But the
sun, which still silvers the highest of these celestial mountains, begins
already to decline.
We must quit these regions to approach the earth ; our revolt against
gravity has lasted long enough, we must now obey its laws again.
As we descend, the summits of the silvery mountains approach us
fast, and appear to ascend toward us : we are already entering deep
valleys which seem as if about to swallow us up ; but mountains,
valleys, and glaciers all flee upward. AVe enter the clouds and soon
see the earth ; we must make the descent, and in a few minutes the
balloon lies helpless and half empty on the ground.
I have said that the sky, as viewed from above the clouds, is of a
deep blue colour, which deepens in intensity with increase of elevation
regularlv from the earth, if the sky be free from clouds, or with the
increase of elevation above the clouds if they be present.
The sky, if seen through clouds, is of the same pale colour as seen
from the earth, at whatever elevation the clouds may be ; at the
height of four miles, for instance, when we were still in cloud, the
blueness of the sky was of the same pale colour as it is when seen
from the earth.
"When the sky is free from cloud, and but little water is present
in the invisible shape of vapour, the colour deepens to an intense
prussian blue at the highest elevation.
Speaking of the blueness of the sky, Sir David Brewster, in his
paper " On the Polarization of the Atmosphere," observes : " We
may conclude that 90° is, in the normal state of the atmosphere,
the distance from the sun of the place of maximum polarization,
and 45° the corresponding angle of incidence."
This determination of the place and angle of maximum polariza-
tion affords a highly probable explanation of the azure colour of the
sky. Sir Isaac Newton regarded this colour as a blue of the first
order, though very faint. Professor Clausius considers the vapours
to be vesicles or bladders, and ascribes the blue colour of the first
order to reflection from the thin pellicle of water.
In reference to these opinions the following facts are important : — -
1. The azure colour of the sky, though resembling the blue of the
first order when the sky is viewed from the earth's surface, becomes
an exceedingly deep prussian blue as we ascend, and, when viewed
from the height of six or seven miles, is a deep blue of the second or
third order. 2. The maximum polarizing angle of the atmosphere,
96 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
45°, is the same as that of air, and not that of water, which is 53°.
3. At the greatest height to which I have ascended, namely, at the
height of five, six, and seven miles, where the blue is the brightest,
the air is almost deprived of moisture. Hence it follows that the
exceedingly deep prussiau blue cannot be produced by vesicles of
water, but must be caused by reflection from the air, whose polarizing
r.ngle is 45°. The faint blue which the sky exhibits at the earth's
surface is, therefore, not the blue of the first order, but merely
the blue of the second or third order rendered paler by the light
reflected from the aqueous vapour in the lower regions of the
atmosphere.
To appreciate all the beauty of cloud scenery when the air is
loaded with moisture, an aerial voyage must be made on an autumn
morning before sunrise, when the atmosphere is charged with the
vapours of night.
The accidental circumstance of a late descent at night determined
us to anchor the balloon and re-ascend before sunrise the following
morning, and thus enable us to view the clouds under these conditions.
It was towards the end of August, and we left the earth at half-past
4 o'clock a.m. The morning was dull, warm, and misty, and the
sky was covered with cloud. The balloon bore us gently upward,
making the first 1,000 feet in eight minutes : all below was thick
mist, veiling the surface of the earth. At 3,500 feet, still gently
rising, we entered a bed of cumulo-stratus. Fifteen minutes after
we left the earth we had reached 5,000 feet, and then just emerged
above the clouds. They, however, presently again formed all round
and above the car, closing everything from view excepting only a
line, bright as silver, which indicated the east. We were in a basin
of cloud, whose sides extended far above us all round. "We slowly
rose, and when we reached its boundary the sun rose, flooding with
light the whole extent of cloudland beyond, which glistened like a
golden lake under his beams. The scene all round possessed a
reality and grandeur far exceeding sunrise as viewed from the earth.
Grouped around the car, both above and below, there were clouds
of Alpine character, sloping to their bases in glistening -light, or
towering upwards in sheets of shining vapour, which added the
charm of contrast to the splendid tints of sunrise. The clouds spread
around us like an ocean, and, continually changing their forms,
suddenly gathered themselves into mountain heaps and closed all
round us, hiding the sun in neutral-tinted gloom ; the earth was
visible through breaks, and the early morning mists were seen creep-
ing upon its surface as the daylight gathered strength.
Ill
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NIllMHIIIIn, IIWIlUl'
APPEARANCE OE EARTH FROM A BALLOON. 99
We threw out ballast, and, after vising through the noble valleys
which formed and vanished so rapidly and in so fairy-like a manner,
saw the sun as it were rise again, this time flooding the atmosphere
with a brilliant sea of light ; and as we rose higher and left the clouds
far below, we looked down upon them bathed in a golden glow of the
richest hue.
APPEARANCE OF THE EARTH VIEWED FROM A BALLOON.
All perception of comparative altitudes of objects on or near the
ground is lost — houses, trees, the undulation of the country, &c, all
are reduced to one level, and even the lower detached clouds
appear to rest on the earth ; everything, in fact, seems to be on
the same level, and the whole has the appearance of a plane.
Everything seen, looking downwards from a balloon, including the
clouds, seems projected upon the one visible plane beneath.
Always, however great the height of the balloon, when I have
seen the horizon it has roughly appeared to be on the level of the
car — though of course the dip of the horizon is a very appreciable
quantity — or the same height as the eye. From this one might
infer that, coidd the earth be seen without a cloud or anything to
obscure it, as that point of the plane beneath is directly under the
eye, and the boundary line of the plane approximately the same
height as the eye, the general appearance would be that of a slight
concavity ; but I have never seen any part of the surface of the earth
other than as a plane. Towns and cities, when viewed from the
balloon, are like models in motion. I shall always remember the
ascent of the 9th October, 1863, when we passed over London about
sunset. At the time when we were 7,000 feet high, and directly
over London Bridge, the scene around was one that cannot pro-
bably be equalled in the world. We were still so low as not to
have lost sight of the details of the spectacle which presented itself
to our eyes ; and with one glance the homes of 3,000,000 people
could be seen, 'and so distinct was the view, that every large
building was easily distinguishable. In fact, the whole of London
was visible, and some parts most clearly. All round, the suburbs
were also very distinct, with their lines of detached villas, imbedded
as it were in a mass of shrubs ; beyond, the country was like a
garden, its fields, well marked, becoming smaller and smaller as
the eye wandered farther and farther away. Again looking down,
there was the Thames, throughout its whole length without the
slightest mist, dotted over in its winding course with innumerable
ships and steamboats, like moving toys. Gravesend was visible,
H 2
LOO TEA VELS IN THE A IE.
also the mouth of the Thames and the coast around as far as
Norfolk. The southern shore of the mouth of the Thames was
in it so clear, but the sea beyond was seen for many miles; when
at a higher elevation, I looked for the coast of France, but was
unable to see it. On looking round, the eye was arrested by the
garden-like appearance of the county of Kent, till again London
claimed yet more careful attention.
Smoke, thin and blue, was curling from it, and slowly moving
away in beautiful curves, from all except one part, south of the Thames,
where it was less blue and seemed more dense, till the cause became
evident ; it was mixed with mist rising from the ground, the
southern limit of which was bounded by an even line, doubtless
indicating the meeting of the subsoils of gravel and clay. The
whole scene was surmounted by a canopy of blue, everywhere clear
and free from cloud, except near the horizon, where a band of
cumulus and stratus extended all round, forming a fitting boundary
to such a glorious view.
As seen from the earth, the sunset this evening was described as
fine, the air being clear and shadows sharply defined ; but, as we rose
to view it and its effects, the golden hues increased in intensity ; their
richness decreased as the distance from the sun increased, both right
and left ; but still as far as 90° from the sun, rose-coloured clouds
extended. The remainder of the circle was completed, for the most
part, by pure white cumulus of well-rounded and symmetrical forms.
I have seen London by night. I have crossed it during the day
at the height of four miles. I have often admired the splendour of
sky scenery, but never have I seen anything which surpassed this
spectacle. The roar of the town heard at this elevation was a deep,
rich, continuous sound — the voice of labour. At four miles above
London, all was hushed ; no sound reached our ears.
In conclusion, let us take the Balloon as we find it, and apply
it to the uses of philosophy ; let us make it subservient to
the purposes of war, an instrument of legitimate strategy ; or
employ it to ascend to the verge of our lower atmosphere, and,
as it is, the Balloon will claim its place among the most important
of lmman inventions, even if it remain an isolated power, and
should never become engrafted as the ruling principle of the
mechanism we have yet to seek in the solution of the problem
of aerial navigation.
The application of the Balloon, as an instrument of vertical
exploration, presents itself to us under a variety of aspects, each
of which is fertile in suggestion. If we regard the atmosphere as
APPEARANCE OF EARTH FROM A BALLOON, loi
the great laboratory of changes which contain the germ of future
discoveries, to belong to the chemist, the meteorologist, and the
physicist, its relation to animal life at different heights, and the
form of death which at certain elevations waits to accomplish its
destruction ; the effect of diminished pressure upon individuals
similarly placed ; the comparison of experiences in mountain ascents
with the experiments in balloon ascents — are some of the questions
which suggest themselves, and indicate the direction of inquhies
which naturally ally themselves as objects of balloon investigations ;
sufficiently varied and important, they will be seen, to give the
Balloon a place as a valuable aid to the uses of philosophy.
I should wish, before closing my own portion of this work, to
express the gratification I feel that French gentlemen have united
with me in collecting the results of other labours in scientific
research, and I hope that my experiments may be of use in future
inquiries. I most willingly place my experiences at the service
of any aeronaut, and hope that the time is not distant when my
experiments will be surpassed by others more extensive, and that
the progress of aerial navigation may give a new scope to scientific
research in the Balloon.
The voyages of MM. Flammarion, De Fonvielle, and Tissandier,
which follow, have been translated from the French by T. L.
Phipson, LL.D., &c.
CHARLES AM) 1)1. BA1 SI R >
PART II.
TRAVELS OF M. C. FLAMMARION.
THE INSTBUMENTS
PUE LI M INAPY CHAPTE If.
A SKETCH OF SCIENTIFIC BALLOONING FROM 1783 TO L86*j
No sooner had the brothers Montgoltier launched into the air their
first aerostatic globe, no sooner had the art of aerial navigation dawned,
than certain contemplative minds saw at once the immediate applica-
tion of this noble physical conquest to the investigation of the vast
atmospheric ocean at the bottom of which we live. This splendid and
marvellous means of locomotion was at once hailed as an infallible
method of obtaining a thorough knowledge of the earth's atmosphere ;
and though some were bold enough to believe, at this early date, that
the course of a balloon might be directed at will, and that pleasure-
trips to all parts of the world might be easily accomplished, others of
more sober imagination looked only to the scientific applications of
the new discovery. The illustrious Benjamin Franklin foresaw the
meteorological importance of a balloon. "Whilst passing through Paris
he spoke to several members of the Academy of Sciences on the
.scientific future in store for aerostation. This future was then
supposed to be near at hand ; but even now, in the seventieth year
of tins century, who can say that wre have realized it?
Before commencing the account of our aerial travels, we must point
to the fact that such expeditions undertaken in the interests of science
have hitherto been very rare, even in France, in spite of the well-
105 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
recognized importance attached to those which wove achieved at the.
beginning of the century. For the finest and most productive series
of scientific expeditions into the atmosphere we are indebted to
James Glaisher, Fellow of the Eoyal Society, the results of which are
published in the volumes of the British Association, and will serve
to enhance the interest of the French expeditions here recorded.
But before we give an account of our own ascents, let us glance at the
art of aerostation itself, and the discovery of Montgolfier.
On the 5th June, 1783, when Joseph Montgolfier and his brother,
then managers of the old paper-works at Annonay, made their first
public experiment in that town, philosophers all exclaimed with
Lalande, " How simple a thing it is ! How is it that this was not
thought of before ! " Truly, as Biot used to say, nothing is so simple
as that which was done yesterday ; nothing so difficult as that which
is to be done to-morrow.
We cannot afford space to examine into the various accounts of
flying mentioned in ancient mythology, in sacred and profane writing.
Archytas of Tarentum flew a kite, it is said, 400 years B.C., and even
manufactured a wooden pigeon which rose in the air for a few minutes.
Simon the Magician made some attempts to fly from one house to
another in the year (56, at Borne ; and these experiments appear to
have been renewed during the reign of the Emperor Manuel Comnenus,
when a Saracen endeavoured to fly from the tower of the Hippodrome
at Constantinople. In the 13th century, Boger Bacon had some
notion of a " flying machine," whereby a man, upheld by the centre
of his body, moved a system of wings by means of a handle. Towards
the end of the 15th century J. B. Dante, a mathematician of Berouse,
rose above the Lake Trasimene, by means of artificial wings attached
to his body. One day he fell on to the Church of Notre Dame and
broke his leg ; the same accident happened also to Oliver of Malmes-
bury, a learned English monk, who was very fond of such experiments.
Jn 1638, Goldwin attempted to fly by means of wild geese trained for
this purpose. Wilkins, in his fictitious account of a journey to the
moon, proposed that vessels should be constructed and filled "with
etherized air like fire," which would cause them to float upon air as
boats float on Avater. Cyrano de Bergerac actually described five
methods of rising in the air, one of which consisted in the use of a
glass globe heated by the sun's rays; another very preposterous
notion was that of throwing magnets into the air in such a manner
as to draw up an iron cage in which the traveller sat ! In 1670, Lana
imagined that very thin copper globes, in which a vacuum would be
produced, might rise in the air. In 1678, a mechanic of Maine, named
*'. FLAM1CARI6N
A SKETCH OF SCIENTIFIC BALLOONING. 109
Besnier, constructed wings for his legs and arms, which, according to
the Journal des Savants of that date, gave very satisfactory results.
A certain rope-dancer, named Allard, made similar experiments in
the reign of Louis XIV., and was severely wounded in his descent
from the high terrace at St. Germain, near Paris. It would appear
that ahout 1710 Laurent de Gusman rose in the air upon the back of
a wooden bird filled with air, if we must believe a singular engraving
representing this event, and preserved in the Bibliollii'ijui' Nationale,
at Paris. In 1772 the Abbe Desforges, Canon of Etampes, attempted
an experiment by means of a boat provided with wings, but without
the slightest result. In 1775, a certain M. de la Folic, of Rouen,
endeavoured to construct a flying machine by combining certain kinds
of electrical apparatus. A well-known novel-writer, lietif de la Bre-
tonne, has described, in his "Decouverte Australe," the type of a
flying man. At Paris, the Marquis de P>ac(pieville attempted one day
to fly from a window of his house on the river, and fell ludicrously
into the boat of a washerwoman on the opposite bank. Blanchard,
who afterwards became celebrated by his aeronautical excursions,
once tried a flying machine, and fared no better.
None of these attemj^ts would ever have brought about the discovery
of balloons. The scientific principle on which they are founded was
exhibited at Edinburgh in 1767, by Dr. Black, Professor of Chemistry,
wdio announced to his audience that a vessel filled with hydrogen gas
would rise naturally into the air; it was tried in London in 17i~>2, by
Professor Cavallo, who filled soap bubbles with hydrogen gas, and saw
them rise rapidly in the air on account of their specific lightness.
Montgolfier knew nothing of hydrogen gas when he made his first
experiments. It was by means of heated air that he inflated the
paper or linen globes of which his balloons were made, and thus gave
them a specific lightness which caused them to rise to a certain height
into the air. At 50° Fahr. air is 4 per cent, lighter than at 32° ;
at 122° its specific gravity is only 0\84, and at 212" only 072 ;
air at 32° being taken as unity. But this is a very slight degree of
dilatation, and we covdd not rise very high in a balloon expanded
by warm air, even were this balloon of the enormous dimensions
of the Flcssclks of Lyons, whose diameter was 100 feet, and height
120 feet. As Montgolfier used heated air to cause his balloons to
ascend, they were termed Montgolfi&res, or fire-balloons, and are
essentially different from air-balloons (properly speaking, gas-balloons)
or aerostats.
The discovery of balloons created much discussion in France, and
nothing was more talked of in Paris than the marvellous boldness of
110 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
the conception ; for it was early foreseen that the day was not far
distant when men would not he content with sending up their spheres
empty into the regions of the clouds, hut that they would soon wish
to travel themselves into the highest strata of the atmosphere.
Professor Charles, afterwards a member of the Acadeni}^ of Sciences,
manufactured, in the month of August of that same year, a balloon
which was inflated with hydrogen gas. On this occasion he got up a
national subscription (the first of its kind) to defray expenses, and on
the 27th August, at six o'clock in the evening, the Globe, as it was
called, rose, from the Champ de Mars, high into the regions of space.
Astronomers had taken up various positions in order to measure the
height to which it rose ; the discharge of a piece of artillery announced
its departure, its entrance into the clouds, its reappearance above
them, and its final disappearance. This public lesson of natural
philosophy was deeply interesting to the numerous spectators
assembled ; they followed the Globe with their eyes as long as it
could possibly be distinguished ; and so great was the enthusiasm at
this moment, that a torrent of rain which fell shortly afterwards was
scarcely perceived, even by the most elegantly dressed ladies among
the crowd, as may be seen by referring to the published engravings
which represent the scene.
This balloon fell at Gonesse, and terrified the peasantry to such a
degree that it was destroyed by them on the spot, torn into a thousand
fragments, and the shreds dispersed in the country. At the imitation
of King Louis XVI., Montgolfier sent up a fire-balloon at Arersailles
on the 19th September. It carried a car, in which were placed a
sheep, a cock, and a duck, and these passengers were safely landed near
the forest of Vaucresson, a short distance from their starting-point.
But all this Avas merely the prelude to aerial navigation. The
well-known Pilatre de Eozier astonished both the Court and the
town by his offer to make an ascent in an ordinary fire-balloon. In
fact, on the 21st October of the same year, this bold adventurer,
accompanied by his friend the Marquis dArlandes, actually rose from
the Chateau de la Muette in the car of a magnificent Montgolfier, and
after passing over the capital, to the astonishment of the whole of
Paris, they descended in the country near the Butte aux Cailles.
This bold experiment opened out a new path, which was not long-
untrodden. On the 15th December AIM. Charles and Pobert left
the grounds of the Palace of the Tuileries in a balloon inflated
with hydrogen gas, and in presence of 600,000 spectators. The
weather was extremely fine, and after a trip of two hours they
descended at a distance of nine leagues from Paris, near Tavernv, at
A SKETCH OF SCIENTIFIC BALLOONING. Ill
Nesles. In 1783 we remark that there were four aerial excursions,
but in 1784 there were no less than fifty-two. Among these were the
expeditions of Montgolfier himself at Lyons, of Guy ton de Morveau
at Dijon, the Due de Chartres (father of Louis Philippe) at St. Cloud,
and of Prince Charles de Lignes at Lyons.
Since then a considerable number of balloon ascents have been
accomplished. Numbers of aeronauts have confided themselves to
the sphere of gas, or to the flame of a fire-balloon ; 3,500 ascents have
been executed in Europe and America, and fifteen deaths only have
been recorded. Of this number of ascents, however, a few only were
undertaken for scientific purposes ; most of them were merely for the
sake of public amusement.
The first and most useful application of balloons appeared to be
their adaptation to meteorological investigations. Aerostation, indeed,
offered itself spontaneously to observing minds as a means of loco-
motion which might rival the ancient Pegasus, and carry the bold
investigators into regions which no mortal eye had hitherto contem-
plated. This marvellous world of air, so mild and yet so strong,
where tempests, whirlwinds, snow, and hail are elaborated, was hence-
forth opened to the inhabitants of the terrestrial soil. Its secrets
would be disclosed, the movements of the atmospheric world would
be counted, measured, and determined as scrupulously as astronomers
can determine those of celestial bodies ; and man, once placed in
possession of this terrestrial mechanism, would be able to predict
rains and storms, drought and heat, luxuriant crops and famines, as
surely as he can predict eclipses, and thus ensure an ever-smiling and
fertile soil !
Such was the magnificent dream evoked by the sight of the first
balloon which carried its adventurous travellers into the higher regions
of the atmosphere. The dream would have been realized ere this had
the mind which created it directed human affairs. But, unfortunately,
wisdom does not always guide us in our undertakings ; false pride and
misdirected ambition ofttimes predominate over these purer aspirations
of the soul, and personal interest pulls us from the straightforward
path which leads to the interests of all. What a period succeeded in
France to the brilliant experimental era of 1784, which appeared to
have given us such immense advantages ! The era of the year '93 !
Then that of the 18th of Brumaire!
The year 1789 had scarcely spread its luminous and powerful wings
of thought and experiment when the hydra of inferior instincts trod
them under foot, and upon these intellectual ruins a hero of the sword
raised the decrepit and false glory of war !
112 TEA VELS IX THE AIR
The same human imperfections, the same personal ambition and
intrigue, have operated to the present day, so that the mind cannot
develop itself in freedom. Progress is certainly made, hut how
slowly ! It is opposed by the contemporary politics of the whole of
Europe. Why are not the hearts of men united as a single organ ?
AVhy do they not beat with the same rhythm in the interests of the
good and the beautiful? In France alone 250 times as much money
is spent in the art of destroying the human species as is expended on
education and science. This is why the projects and experiments of
honest men remain so long in the state of dreams.
Instead of being directed to meteorological studies, as it should have
been, aerostation has hitherto been chiefly applied to satisfy public
curiosity, and as a source of amusement. Ever since the absurd
ceremonies of the French Republic, ever since the ascent which took
place at the coronation of 1804, when the balloon left Paris on the
evening of the l(ith December, and fell near the Campagna at Pome
next morning, informing the Romans by its inscription that Napoleon
had been crowned by Pius VII. ; ever since the recalling of Louis
XVIII. on the 3rd of May, 1814, celebrated by the most numerous
ascents of balloons ever witnessed, no public entertainment has been
considered quite complete without its balloon ascent. Smaller gaieties
go off with a little fire-balloon, but the larger ceremonies require a
real air-balloon and an aeronaut in flesh and bones.
Though scientific ascents have been somewhat rare, they have never-
theless been applied to solve such important problems that they occupy
a very honourable position in the annals of science, whilst thousands
of public balloon ascents are already consigned to oblivion.
The first ascent for the purposes of science was that made by
Robertson and Lhoest on the 18th of July, 1803. On referring to the
report of it addressed to the Academy of Sciences of St. Petersburg,
we find that they left Hamburg at nine o'clock in the morning, re-
mained five and a half hours in the air, and came down near Hanover,
at about seventy live miles from their starting-point. The balloon
rose to 23,526 feet; the thermometer fell to 19°-6, whilst it was 68°
on the ground. Fight experiments were made on the journey. The
first had for its object frictional electricity. It was proved that at
the altitude mentioned, glass, sulphur, and wax do not become electric
by friction to any appreciable extent. The second experiment con-
cerned voltaic electricity. A voltaic battery of sixty couples, silver-
zinc, only produced five-sixths of the action upon the electrometer,
which it was found to produce at the surface of the earth. The
third experiment showed that the oscillation of a dipping needle
A SKETCH OF SCIENTIFIC BALLOONING. 113
increased with the height. The fourth experiment was applied to
sound. By exploding ten grains of chlorate of potash, merely a sharp
crack was heard ; sound was found to be less powerful and less easily
propagated than at the surface of the ground. In the fifth experi-
ment it was sought to ascertain the degree of temperature at which
water would boil at this height in the air ; but by an unaccountable
mistake, reminding us of Newton, who put his watch into the hot
water and held the egg in his hand, liobertson plunged the ther-
mometer into the fire instead of the water, and so broke it. How-
ever, it was quite possible at this great height to hold one's hand in
the boiling water without experiencing the slightest inconvenience.
In the sixth experiment the odour of a drop of sulphuric ether was
noted. When it had evaporated for four seconds, it produced a
painful, but useful, sensation in the nostrils ; and smelling-salts are
recommended by the authors to overcome a feeling of faintness or
sleepiness that may come on in a balloon.
Drowsiness, in this instance, quite overcame the experimenters.
Robertson made great efforts to swallow a piece of bread, but in vain.
Of the two birds taken up in a cage, one was dead; the second had
swooned away, and when it was roused and placed on the edge of the
car, it moved its wings without stirring from the place, and at last fell
heavily down through the air : this was the seventh experiment. The
eighth consisted in noting that the sky above them was of a dark grey
colour, and that the sun's heat was very slight, except in the inside of
the car, where it made itself felt a little.
A second voyage was made on the 14th of August, 1803, and
resulted in the belief that the proportion of oxygen gas contained in
the air diminished notably as the higher regions were gained. Later
ascents have shown that the supposition was erroneous.
The Academy of Sciences of St. Petersburg resolved to have the
experiments of the Hamburg expedition repeated, and to engage for
that purpose the services of Mr. Kobertson himself, who was to be.
accompanied by one of the members of the Academy, Herr Sacharoff,
a distinguished chemist and physicist. This new ascent took place on
the 30th of June, 1804. The aeronauts left St. Petersburg at 7h. 45m.
in the evening, and reached ground again at 10b. 45m. near Sivoritz,
a distance of some sixty miles. At the surface of the earth the
barometer marked 30 inches at the moment of departure, and the
thermometer stood at 74|° Fahrenheit; at the highest point which they
reached, these two instruments marked respectively 22 inches and
42Q,1. It was concluded from these observations that the balloon had
ascended to a height of 8,868 feet. It was found to be impossible on
i
114 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
this occasion to make any regular magnetic observations, but both
Robertson and Sacharoff believed that the declination needle had
ceased to be horizontal, and that its north pole had risen about 10"
whilst they were in the air.
At the commencement of 1804, Laplace proposed to the members
of the French Academy of Sciences, that advantage should be taken
of balloons for solving certain physical problems, and notably that of
magnetic intensity at great heights, as l)e Saussure had already re-
marked a diminution of magnetic intensity whilst making observations
on the Col du Geant. He added that, as the Government had placed
funds at their disposal for the prosecution of useful experiments, he
thought that they might be applied to these kinds of researches.
Berthollet and several other members who had also certain experi-
ments on the atmosphere to propose, seconded the resolution ; ami
this occurred at a very favourable period, for Chaptal, the distin-
guished chemist, was then Minister of the Interior. It was soon
decided that Biot and Gay-Lussac, then two of the youngest and most
ardent professors, should make the first experimental ascent.
The first ascent of these two young philosophers was to take
place from the Jardin du Luxembourg, but the arrangements having
failed there, they rose from the Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers,
on the L'4th of August, 1804. At the height of 13,124 feet they
endeavoured, by means of a horizontal needle, to determine the mag-
netic intensity- — this was, in fact, the chief object of their ascent, but
the rotatory motion of the balloon presented an unexpected obstacle
to these observations ; the experiments were postponed in consecpience
until the next ascent, which was made by Gay-Lussac alone. He left
the Conservatoire on the 16th of September, 1804, at 9h. 40m. in the
morning, and descended again at 3h. 45m. in the afternoon, between
Rouen and Dieppe, near the hamlet of Saint-Gourgon, having drifted
120 miles from Paris.
Having supplied his balloon with long hanging ropes, destined to
counteract the rotatory or spinning motion, the clever observer was
enabled to make some experiments with an oscillating magnetic needle,
and obtained as a result that the mean duration of ten oscillations at
all heights was forty-two seconds. He concluded from this that the
magnetic power does not undergo any notable change even at the
greatest heights to which wTe can have access. Gay-Lussac has
expressed himself on this point in the following terms: — "The con-
sequence drawn from my experiments may appear somewhat abrupt to
those who recollect that I could make no observations on the inclina-
tion of the magnetic needle ; but if we call to mind that the force
A SKETL 'II OF Si 'IENTIFR ' BA L LOONING. 1 1 5
which causes the horizontal needle to oscillate is necessarily dependent
upon the intensity and the direction of the magnetic force itself, and
that it is represented by the cosine of the angle of inclination of the
latter force, we cannot help concluding that the horizontal force has
not varied, or the magnetic force either."
This conclusion was quite legitimate at this period, when it was
generally unknown that the duration of the oscillation of a magnetic
needle is influenced by the temperature of the latter. Now, in Gay-
Lussac's ascent the cold was intense enough to have produced a
notable effect upon his needle. Moreover, in 1804 physical instru-
ments were far from being so perfect as they are at the present day,
and it was perhaps impossible to arrive at a rigorous solution of the
problem. Even at the present day the problem is not solved.
The principal result obtained in this aeronautic expedition made by
Gay-Lussac relates to the composition of the air, which he found to
be constant even at the great altitude of 22,966 feet. He was the
first person who brought down air collected at this enormous height,
and had it carefully analysed. The result of this analysis has since
been accurately confirmed by every subsequent experiment on this
subject that has been made during the last fifty years.
Another no less important fact was the great difference found by
Gay-Lussac between the temperature at the earth's surface and that of
the higher regions which he reached. When he started, the barometer
stood at 30-13 inches, and the thermometer at 82° Fahr. At the
highest point reached by the balloon the barometer was found to
have sunk to 12-94 inches, and the thermometer stood at 14°"9 Fahr.
At this moment it is evident that Gay-Lussac must have been at an
elevation of at least 23,000 feet above the level of the sea, and in
rising to this height he experienced the effects of a difference of 07
Fahrenheit degrees of temperature.
From 1804 to 1850 we have no record of scientific expeditions in
balloons. In the latter year MM. Barral and Bixio made two ascents
for the purpose of investigating certain atmospheric phenomena still
imperfectly understood. They wished to determine the laws which
govern the decrease of temperature and humidity with height ; they
also desired to examine the composition of the air at various eleva-
tions, and its contents with regard to the amount of carbonic acid
present; to compare the heating effects of the solar rays in the
highest regions of the atmosphere with those observed at the surface
of the earth ; to discover whether a given point receives the same
quantity of heat rays from every part of space; and to ascertain
whether the light which is reflected by and transmitted through the
I 2
116 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
clouds is polarized or not ; and also to decide several other questions
of 'an interesting character.
Everything having been got ready for their departure from the
garden of the Paris Observatory, they ascended on the 29th June,
1850, at twenty-seven minutes past ten o'clock in the morning. The
balloon Avas inflated with pure hydrogen gas, obtained by the action
of hydrochloric acid upon iron.
It appears, according to the calculations, that these two observers
must have risen to a height exceeding 30,000 feet.
Soon after they had started it was found that their balloon was not
in perfect order. Having weathered a severe gale, it had got torn in
several places, and, at the last moment, had been mended somewhat
hastily. A heavy rain was falling at the time of departure. "What
was to be done ? The wind was so violent that MM. Barral and Bixio
rose into the air without even determining beforehand the ascensional
power of the balloon, which is usually done by means of a kind of
steel-yard. They rose with extreme rapidity, like an arrow from the
bow, according to the spectators assembled, and soon disappeared
among the clouds.
But the balloon, becoming rapidly inflated and pressing upon the
network, which was far too small, bulged out at top and bottom, and
pressed down upon the two aeronauts, the car being suspended by
ropes which were much too short ; in fact, it soon covered them like
an immense hood. Their position was most critical, and when one of
them endeavoured to secure the valve-rope, a rent was made in the
lower part of the balloon, and the hydrogen gas, which escaped from
it close to their faces, suffocated both of them, causing a momentary
exhaustion, followed by nausea and violent vomiting.
A glance at the barometer showed that they were descending
rapidly ; and seeking to explain this unexpected occurrence, they
found that the balloon was split open about the middle, and that the
rent was upwards of two yards in extent. It was then evident that
all they could hope for was to escape with their lives from this most
perilous ascent. The unfortunate physicists threw overboard all
their ballast, and everything else that they could get rid of, even their
wearing apparel and their fur coats, only excepting their instruments.
At last they touched the ground at a quarter-past eleven, in a vine-
yard at Dampmart, near Lagny. The labourers and peasants who ran
to their assistance found them holding on to the vine stumps to arrest
the horizontal drifting of the ear over the ground.
An aerial expedition under such circumstances could scarcely be
expected to prove of much use to science. Arago reported upon it to
A SKETCH OF SCIENTIFIC BALLOONING. 117
the Academy ; but neither the preparations for this journey nor for
that of Biot and Gay-Lussac were carefully enough prepared to be
of service in collecting scientific observations.
Barral and Bixio determined to ascend again without delay ; they
did so a month later from the Observatory, and Arago witnessed this
ascent, as he had done that which we have just described. He did
everything in his power to make this second ascent as fruitful as
possible in a scientific point of view. They started on the 27th July,
which was also a wet day.
A very interesting optical phenomenon was noticed on this occa-
sion. Before rising to the highest point, the layers of cloud which
surrounded the balloon on all sides became very much less dense, and
the disc of the sun was seen through them pale and faint; at the same
time there appeared below the horizontal plane level with the car
of the balloon, and at an angular distance from this plane equal to
that which measured the apparent height of the sun, a second sun,
appearing like the reflection of the first from a sheet of water. It
appears probable that this second image was due to the reflection
of the sun's rays from the horizontal planes of crystals of ice floating
in this vapory atmosphere.
But let us refer at once to the most extraordinary result yielded
by the thermometrical observations. Gay-Lussac, as we have just
seen, noted a degree of cold represented by 15° Fahrenheit when he
had risen to a height of 23,000 feet. This low temperature was
experienced by MM. Barral and Bixio, whilst enveloped in a cloud at
an elevation of about 19,G8o feet; but from this point to a distance
upwards of some 1,9G9 feet, the temperature varied in a most singular
and unexpected manner. At a little distance above the higher surface
of the cloud, when at an altitude of 23,127 feet, their thermometer
sank to minus 380,2 Fahr., which is 54° below the tempeiature noted
by Gay-Lussac at the same altitude.
This curious fact has been commented upon at various times, but
no positive explanation of it has yet been supplied to us. The obser-
vation requires confirmation. Science knows little or nothing yet of
what is going on in these higher regions of the atmosphere.
The scientific observations which were to have been made during
this ascent have been alluded to above ; they have contributed some-
what to the study of Meteorology. We will give the following in-
teresting extract from the note-book of the two learned aeronauts : —
" The balloon is that of M. Dupuis-Delcourt, in which we made our
first ascent; its capacity is about 23,000 cubic feet. It has a lowei
118 TEA VELS IN THE ATE.
orifice, constantly open, for the escape of gas in case of dilatation. The
car is suspended at about thirteen feet below this orifice, which is
situated at the extremity of a long tail-like appendage some twenty-
two feet long ; so that the fully inflated balloon is situated at least
thirty-six feet from the car, and cannot therefore interfere with the
making or recording of observations. The instruments are fixed, at a
convenient distance from the observers, around a thick band of sheet-
iron attached to the usual balloon circle, which is of wood, and to
which the ropes of the car are attached.
" The body of the balloon being so far distant from the car, the latter
oscillated at first very much from side to side, owing to the action of
the wind upon the aerostat, and it was only after a long series of
oscillations to and fro that we found ourselves at last vertically sus-
pended beneath our balloon. On rising we struck against a tree and
against a mast, by which a barometer and a thermometer were broken,
and the former thrown out of the car.
" 4h. .'-im. — Departure. — The balloon rises very slowly and moved
towards the east ; we throw out a few pounds of ballast and rise
quicker. The
A
7
is
quite
ovei
cast.
AVe soon
find ourseh
slight fo£.
Time.
B
AROMETER.
Ti
IEKM"METER.
Height.
ll. 111. s.
I' ches.
Deg. Falir.
Feet.
4 <; 0
27-35
60-8
2,484
4 8 0
26-57
—
3,278
4 !) 30
26-81
55-4
4.0M
4 11 0
25-07
49-6
4,866
" Above us a sheet of cloud is spread ; below we see here and there
isolated clouds, which appear to be rolling towards Paris. "We feel a
yery fresh breeze.
Time.
P.
AROMETER.
T
BERMOMETER.
Height,
ii. in.
Illrlies.
Deg. F.-ilir.
Feet.
4 13
2353
48-4
6,604
4 15
22-00
—
8,422
4 20
19-00
31-1
12,306
" The cloud into which we now enter has the appearance of a very
thick fog ; we no longer see the earth.
Barometer
Thermometer.
Height,
Inches.
Deg. Fahr.
Feet.
1596
19-4
16,801
" A few rays of sunshine gleam through the clouds. The barometer
is oscillating between 14'45 and 15-22 inches; the thermometer marks
48°-2 ; calculation gives us for our height 19,393 to 18,019 feet.
A SKE T< 'II OF S( 'Ih'.X TIFK ' J! A LLOONING. 119
" The balloon is fully inflated ; the tail part, which hitherto has
been quite flattened by the pressure of the atmosphere, is now dis-
tended, and from its orifice the gas escapes in the form of a thin
white stream : we perceive its odour very distinctly. We see that
there is a rent in the balloon about a yard and a half from the top
part of the appendage. This opening allows the gas to escape more
freely, and as it exists at the lower portion of the balloon it can only
slightly diminish our ascensional force.
" We are quite covered with small crystals of ice, in the form of
extremely minute needles, which lodge in the folds of our clothes.
When the balloon rises a little, which we see by a fall of the baro-
meter, our note-book catches these ice needles in great quantities, and
they appear to fall upon it with a slight cracking sound. Nothing
similar is noticed whilst the balloon sinks a little.
" AVe open the cage containing two pigeons ; they refuse to fly off.
We throw them into the air; they spread their wings and fall heavily,
turning round and round in wide circles, and soon disappear in the
fog which surrounds us. We cannot see the grapnel, which is hung
down beneath the car of the balloon at the end of a rope 164
feet long.
"4h. 32m. — We throw out some ballast, and rise somewhat higher.
The clouds clear above us, and we see the blue sky, such as we see it
from the earth on a fine day."
As regards the great degree of cold experienced in this expedition,
and the little crystals of ice, Arago says : " This discovery explains how
these minute crystals may become the nucleus of large hailstones ; for
they may condense around them the aqueous vapour contained in that
portion of the atmosphere where they exist. They go far also to prove
the truth of Mariotte's theory, according to which these crystals of ice
suspended in the air are the cause of halos, parhelia or mock-suns,
and mock-moons. Moreover, the great extent of so cold a cloud
explains very satisfactorily the sudden changes of temperature which
occur in our climates. By discussing the meteorological observations
made in Europe the day before, the day after, and on the same day
on which they made their memorable ascent, MM. Barral and Bixio
have shown that certain cases of general and sudden cold took place,
which were certainly connected with the existence of very cold clouds
travelling from the north-east towards the south-west."
Two years after this ascent the committee of Kew Observatory
resolved that a series of aeronautic expeditions should lie made, with
the view of studying the meteorological and physical phenomena
120 TEA VELS IN THE AIE.
which occur in the highest regions of the terrestrial atmosphere. The
resolution was adopted by the Council of the British Association.
Mr. Glaisher has given above a detailed account of some of these
ascents, and I shall, therefore, not return to the subject by continuing
this retrospective review any further, but shall at once proceed with
an account of my own expeditions.
I do not wisli to prolong this preliminary chapter by stating the
motives which induced me to make these aerial voyages, but I cannot
remain quite silent on this head.
During the year 1858, whilst in the Luxembourg Gardens, a balloon
passed overhead at a very slight distance from the ground. I could
not only distinguish the persons in the car, but heard them speak.
The weather was extremely fine, the sky of a beautiful pure blue, and
the aerial skiff glided silently along, leaving no trace behind. Young,
and full of ardour for discovery and adventure, like most people of
sixteen years of age, I would have given the world to be in the
car of that balloon ; and long afterwards I could think of nothing
but a journey into the atmosphere. However, my attention being
constantly directed to astronomy, I was compelled to forget this tem-
porary exhibition that had struck me so forcibly and so suddenly.
A few years ago, having turned my attention to the investigation
of the laws which govern the phenomena of the atmosphere, to the
comparison of the succession of seasons on our globe and on other
planets of the solar system, to the physical constitution of the atmo-
sphere as regards radiation of light and heat, the similarity of aerial
and marine currents, &c, I again felt a strong desire to embark into the
mysterious regions of the air, whose effect upon the life and beauty of
the earth is evidently so great. I was not a little surprised, also, to
hnd a marked difference between the science of astronomy and that of
meteorology. Is it not singular, in fact, that the progress of the former
has been so great that we are enabled by its aid to calculate with the
utmost degree of certainty the time at which eclipses will occur, one
century, two or ten centuries beforehand, and what stars will be
visible above any given horizon at any future period ; the positions
that will be occupied at such and such a time by the satellites of
Jupiter, or the relative positions of double stars, &c, whilst we can
scarcely assert with probability what kind of weather we shall have
to-morrow? The history of science tells us, however, that meteoro-
logical investigations have never been carried on with that energy and
care which has long characterized the science of astronomy. They
have never been prosecuted on so large a scale ; and as to aerostation,
it has only been practised at rare intervals by the few enlightened
A- SKETCH OF SCI EXT I Fit' BALLOONING.
121
men whose labours we have just reviewed. It would seem, indeed, to
use the expression of a well-known astronomer, that philosophers had
feared to trust themselves to a balloon. How can that be ? Surely
we have no safer or more agreeable means of locomotion ! At all
events, everyone does not appear to be convinced of it, for a gallant
field-marshal, who has never hesitated to advance through the dis-
charge of cannon and musketry on the field of battle, has declared to
me more than once that he would not, for a whole empire, ascend
even in a captive balloon !
THE BUM REFLECTED EY THE CLOUDS.
THE AIHKIT
CHAPTER IT.
MY FIBST AERIAL VOYAGE.
Ascexsion Dat, 1867.
" On va-t-il ce navire ? II va, de jour vetu,
A l'avenir divin et pur, a la vertu,
A la science qu'on voit luire,
A l'amoar sur les cceurs serrant son doux lien,
Au juste, au grand, au bon, au beau...Vous voyez bien
Qu'en eti'et il monte aux etoiles ! "
Victor Hugo.
Every motion which occurs in our atmosphere is governed by a
fixed law. The forces which come into action to form winds, clouds,
and tempests, the forces which preside at the grouping of storms, the
birth of soft breezes, the movements of the aerial tides, are just as
positive and absolute as those which cause the celestial orbs to revolve
in the depths of infinite space. Man, so insignificant a creature when
his material dimensions are compared with those of the universe,
but so great in his spiritual nature, has discovered the cairses of these
celestial motions. But the movements of the atmosphere have hitherto
escaped his observation and still refuse to conform to his calculations.
"We may assert, nevertheless, as natural philosophy has long taught,
that not even the slightest breath of air is the product of chance,
and we may confidently hope to see the day when the causes of the
MY FIRST AERIAL VOYAGE. 123
slightest motion shall be known, and when the predictions of weather
will be the result of a true meteorological science worthy of com-
parison with her eldest sister Astronomy.
The most direct and natural means of observing atmospheric currents
appears to be that supplied by aerostation. In order to become per-
fectly acquainted with diurnal variation of climate at various heights,
in order to examine thoroughly into the nature and formation of
storms, it seems most rational to " go and see " what is being done in
these higher regions, and to come face to face with the facts themselves,
A long accumulation of facts and their systematic discussion will solve
these problems better than any hypothesis, however ingenious.
Another point of interest connected with the currents of the
atmosphere is this, that were their variations at different heights
known for the different hours of the day and the seasons of the year,
the great problem of aerial navigation would be almost completely
realized.
I therefore undertook a series of aerostatic experiments with the
view of observing these currents, and at the same time taking those
physical observations which can only be made in a balloon, such as
the temperature of the various strata of air, their electricity, their
influence on the magnet, the moisture of the atmosphere, solar radia-
tion, meteoric phenomena, the forms of clouds, the colour of the sky,
the scintillation of the stars, the chemical composition of the air at
various altitudes, the laws of sight and sound in these high regions, &c.
The programme of these experiments was traced out by Arago at the
time when Barral and Bixio made their ascents, and the subjects for
special study were determined on after perusing the results obtained
by Gay-Lussac, liobertson, Welsh, and Glaisher. The instruments
employed were constructed by M. Secivtan, Optician to the Paris
Observatory.
My first expeditions were undertaken for the Sock'te Acrostatique,
and the Government kindly placed at my disposal the fine balloon
made for his Majesty Napoleon III. at the time of the Italian war in
1859, which had never been used, for it arrived at Solferino the day
after the victory. Its silk envelope is double and nearly impermeable :
this fact, conjointly with its great capacity, about 800 cubic metres,
rendered it most valuable for scientific research and also for Ion"
journeys in the air.
The purely scientific observations which I have been able to make
in these balloon ascents have formed the subject of special papers,
and have also been published in a condensed form in a note read at
the Academy of Sciences. The principal results will be given in the
124 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
present work ; but there is, moreover, an interesting popular element
connected with the novel impressions and sensations spontaneously
experienced in these ascents, which I must place before the reader as
our narrative proceeds.
Before the Departure — "We visited the room in which the empty
balloon was lying as an immense tissue of varnished silk spread over
the floor. An enormous network enveloped it everywhere : it presented,
on the whole, the appearance of an amorphous mass of very little
interest to the eyes of the vulgar. But to the eye of an aeronaut it
appears in quite another character ; and he can scarcely refrain from
addressing it in some such terms as these : " Inert and formless thing,
that I can now trample under my feet, that I can tear with my hands,
here stretched dead upon the ground — my perfect slave — 1 am about
to give thee life that thou mayest become my sovereign! In the
height of my generosity I shall make thee even greatei than myself.
0 vile and powerless thing ! I shall abandon myself to thy majesty,
0 creature of my own hands ! and thou shalt carry me beyond my
kingdom into thy own element, which I have created for thee ; thou
shalt fly oft to the regions of storms and tempests, and I shall be
forced to follow thee ! I shall become thy plaything; thou shalt do
what thou wilt with me, and forget that I gave thee life. . . . Per-
chance thou wilt deprive me of my existence, and leave my corpse
floating in the hurricane above, until thy perfidy, fatigued by its own
exertions, shall fall like a blind monster in some desert plate, or into
the foaming waves which shall swallow us up together ! "
Soon indeed did this inert, amorphous object become a thing of
power, a special being, ready under the influence of the gas which
gradually inflated it, to fly off into its own element, and awaiting only
the ominous words, " let go."
The Departure. — M. Eugene Godard, "Aeronaut to the Emperor,"
had the management of the balloon. A lively companion, Count
Xavier Branicki, took his seat in the car opposite to me. The motion
of the balloon prevented the proper arrangements of my instruments
and apparatus. " It shall be done up above," I said, " when the
impatience of the bounding and swinging aerostat will be satisfied
and remain epiiet."
These first ascents were made from the Hippodrome. The choice of
this locality was criticised as not being a proper place for the starting-
point of a scientific expedition ; but, after all, the starting-point has
little to do with it — the great thing is to get up into the air in the
best condition you can ; and the manager of the Hippodrome facilitated
our journey very much by placing at our disposal the wide space used
MY FIRST AERIAL VOYAGE. 125
for balloon ascents and the large gaspipe constructed for the express
purpose of inflating balloons as rapidly as possible. Later, I had tbe
opportunity of starting as Gay-Lussac bad done, from the garden of
the Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers.
Wberever tbe starting-point happens to be, tbe moment of de-
parture itself has something very solemn about it. In the midst of
friends who have come to witness your first ascent, and whose eyes
anxiously follow all your movements, you rise majestically into the
air. The motion by which you ascend is not felt in the least ; you
know you are rising, for the panorama of Paris gradually spreads
itself out beneath, and you can soon see it entirely, together with the
surrounding green suburbs and country.
"Is not this fine !" was the first exclamation that escaped our lips.
Xo description can convey tbe impression produced by such a mag-
nificent panorama. Those who have endeavoured to describe it have
fallen into a naive and ridiculous style of writing. The grandest and
most sublime view seen from the summit of a high mountain on an
exceedingly bright day bears no comparison to the beauty of nature
as seen perpendicularly from the regions of space. Thus only can
we perceive the beauty and grandeur of nature in all its sublimity,
and that creation is one immense expression of harmony.
Tbe first impression made by such an ascent is a novel sensation of
well-being or contentment, to which is added the vain little pleasure
of feeling yourself soaring much above the level of other mortals,
and at the same time of contemplating such an exquisite scene. As
to tbe motion of the balloon, it is impossible to feel it. (An aeronaut
should be careful before starting to balance his car properly ; he should
also balance the ascending power of his balloon sufficiently to rise
as slowly as possible, not like an arrow shot from the bow, which not
only destroys the charm of the view, but does not give the physical
instruments sufficient time to acquire the temperature of the atmo-
spheric strata through which they pass.) We cannot, as I have just
said, feel that tbe balloon rises. The earth appears to descend beneath
lis ; the group formed by our friends below becomes smaller and
smaller, and their shouts of adieu reach our ears more and more
faintly ; soon they are mixed up in the general uproar of the town,
which predominates over every other sound. The populous city of
Paris spreads out beneath us, its thousands of roofs, its domes and
cupolas, its gardens, boulevards, and its surrounding landscape ; it is
a spectacle which equals anything described in the " Arabian Nights."
The works of man are soon reduced to nothing in such a vision.
The grandest palaces, the highest monuments, towns which have
126 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
withstood the storms of centuries, all are levelled to the ground.
Notre Dame, the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre, which excite such
universal admiration when seen upon earth, are all as nought when
viewed from the regions of the sky. The whole town of Paris is
reduced, after a little while, to the size of one of those maps in
relief which we see at the Museum of the Invalides. Seen from
above, the perspective of the town is entirely modified; the long-
avenues and larcre proves are reduced to small cottages and little
gardens. The river Seine appears as a narrow grey ribbon along the
landscape ; the great palace in the Champ de Mars appears very like
a little white roily pudding ! Beyond the Louvre the tower of St.
Germain l'Auxerrois, flanked by the church of the Mairie, was not
unlike a small coal-pit. At first the column of the Place Yendome
and that of the Bastille appeared wider above than below, but as we
mounted higher all the statues and columns were levelled to the
ground — pointing to the fact that glory is, after all, ecpial to nothing !
How everything is changed as seen from a great height!
To the north-east our view extended to Meaux, but we recognized
neither mountains nor valleys ; the earth appeared asone immense plane
richly decorated with ever-varied colours, like a beautiful miniature.
The first impression which predominates is that of perfect immobility;
the next is caused by the unexpected magnificence of the view spread
out beneath us. To these a third is soon added in the shape of a
doubt as to the perfect security of the balloon. The thoughts of the
vast abyss beneath cause us involuntarily to reflect upon the solidity
of the aerial machine. If the gas were to escape above ? if one of
the ropes gave way ? if the bottom of the car came out ? suppose we
could not cause the balloon to descend again ? how if we were caught
up in a storm or a waterspout I suppose we fell out ? . . . But such
fears soon give way to calm reflection ; the balloon is as solid in the
air as a rock upon the ground. So let us follow the aerial skiff on
its voyage.
The Voyage. — We left the earth at twenty minutes past five, and in
the space of ten minutes we were 1,969 feet high and 14-, 100 to the
south-east of our starting-place. We were travelling at the rate of
nearly twenty-one miles an hour. When passing over the Western
Railway station, on the left bank of the river, a cloud hid Epinay
from our sight. We distinctly heard the noise of the locomotives and
other railway gear; a little further on we heard a military band
playing. Every Parisian noise was audible, but the barking of dogs
predominated over the general hum on the earth's surface.
At &fty-eight minutes past five we wore considerably higher. The
MY FIRST AERIAL VOYAGE. 127
balloon being diluted by tbe warmth of the sun's rays, gas was
escaping from the lower extremity, which is purposely left open.
We were made aware of this escape by the odour of the gas, which is
immistakeable. At six o'clock we again crossed the Seine, above the
point where the Marne falls into it.
Paris is now far away from us. We float over green plains, deli-
cately shaded by the hand of Nature. The smallest objects are most
perfectly defined. But a slight fog now spreads itself, like a trans-
parent veil, over the surface of the country. This veil is thickest
towards the vest. Nature sines to us from beneath this thin
gauze. Among other birds we distinguish the notes of the lark.
The chirp of the mole-cricket and the croaking of frogs also mount
into the air.
We are now drifting silently and slowly through the atmosphere, at
the rate of a little more than eleven feet per second, or 72l! feet per
minute. We see the shadow of the balloon floating over the green
fields and the woods. Later, our shadow gets further off as the sun
declines, until the sun and the balloon being in the same horizontal
plane, we have no shadow ; later still, when the sun sinks below us,
our shadow is cast above. Those who would wish to see their shadow
no longer under their feet, but above their heads, must make an ascent
in a balloon.
At twenty-seven minutes past six we pass over Yalenton, whose
regular parks appear as a marvel of draughtsmanship. The whole
population of the place was out to gaze at us. We rise a little
into a cooler stratum of air, and the velocity of our motion increases :
we are now travelling at the rate of twenty feet per second.
A vegetable hygrometer, which I had constructed in the morning, and
fixed to a square foot of white cardboard, slipped out of my hands and
fell over the car ; I leaned out to catch it, but M. Godard prevented me,
saying that it was highly imprudent to lean out of the car of a balloon
suspended some thousand yards high in the air. I therefore contented
myself with observing the fall of the small apparatus, and watched
it for four minutes and fourteen seconds before it disappeared like a
little sparkling star over the green forest of Senart.
When above the railway station of Lieusaint, we throw out some
ballast ; but, as at first it descended less rapidly than the balloon, it
afterwards fell upon us as a shower of sand. We believe that we
see a very extensive storm in the distance, over the south-eastern
horizon. The fine hills of Yilleneuve-Saint-Georges, the slopes of
Montgeron, the valley of Yeres, are all passed over without our being
able to distinguish any undulation in the immense plane.
1 28 TRA VELB IN THE AIR.
Some railway trains, which pass immediately underneath, signal us
by a joyous whistle from the locomotive. We reply by waving
our flags.
At fifty-four minutes past six; our height is only 1,640 feet, and our
motion thirty feet per second. The latter is becoming accelerated.
At four minutes past seven, however, it is reduced to twenty-three
feet per second. The little town of Melun is on our left, and the
joyous shouts of the inhabitants salute us. At a quarter-past seven
we cross the Seine once more, below Melun.
Thunder is heard growling beyond, and zigzag lightning flashes
across that portion of the sky. Around us the sun shines brightly.
We partake of a slight repast, and some generous Hungarian wine.
The sun gilds our balloon with its evening rays, and the aerial skiff
glides silently along.
I shout ; the sound returns as an echo, after a lapse of six seconds.
It would be interesting to ascertain whether the vertical velocity of
sound is equal to its horizontal velocity in the air, and if the echo is
really returned from the plane beneath. We shall speak of this further
on. In the first expedition, I was much struck by the vague depth of
the echo : it appears to rise from the horizon, and has a curious tone,
as if it came from another world.
We pass over the forest of Fontainebleau : a deathlike stillness
appears to pervade the whole of Nature. There would he absolute
calm, were it not for the murmur of insects and birds which rise
near us, and for the rolling of the thunder which has approached.
Distant clouds roll towards us. Bat we appear to be without motion.
If we shut our eyes, or fix our looks upon the sphere of gas above
which carries us along, it is impossible to perceive any motion.
Nevertheless, our velocity has increased. It is now nearly twenty-
three miles an hour, or about thirty -three feet per second.
The storm, which we have remarked for some time, is evidently
centred in the zone in which we are floating along. We appear to be
drawn towards it : we approach like two trains about to meet. At
half-past seven we have crossed the marshes and rocks of the forest,
and we float over the valley of La Solle. We continue to approach
the storm-clouds. The lightning and thunder are nearer to us.
Beneath we have the forest and its dark landscape ; from the bottom,
the isolated fragments of rock dispersed among the trees produce a
singular effect, and resemble not a little some of the mountains in
the moon.
The storm drives upon us with a rapidity which we did not antici-
pate; in a few minutes we shall be enveloped by it.- There is only
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MY FIRST AERIAL VOYAGE. 129
one or two tilings to be done : either to rise high above the storm-
clouds, or to make a descent at once. The former is quite impossible,
unless we are cruel enough to throw our noble companion into the
forest, and so lighten the car.
The Descent. — Whilst we hesitate, the balloon enters upon the
limits of the rain, and already large drops, which strike the aerostat
with a slight cracking sound, cause it to descend to the tops of the oak
trees. The wind roars through the foliage, and the highest branches
bend before the tempest. The balloon skims over the trees at the
rate of thirty-four feet per second, and the car is about to be precipi-
tated on to the roofs of the houses at Fontainebleau, which appear to
approach us with the strides of a giant. The tumult of a thousand
voices breaks upon us. To accomplish a safe descent when surprised
by wind and storm, requires not only remarkable coolness and presence
of mind, but a sharp look-out, and a practical knowledge that can
only be acquired by long experience.
I may add, that when scientific observations are to be carried on in
a balloon, perfect confidence must be reposed in the strength of the
aerial machine, and in the knowledge of the aeronaut who directs its
movements ; and perhaps I may be allowed to take this opportunity
of stating that I found the one in the Solferino balloon, and the other
in the practical experience of M. Eugene Godard, who, in less time
than is required to write these lines, caused the balloon to sail right
over the town, and to fall with a graceful curve into the adjacent park.
The cracking of the branches made us aware that we had touched
the tops of the trees, and that the car of the balloon was making an
entrance into the forest. But every moment we rebounded again into
the air, springing some twelve yards at a time, and falling again upon
the wood. The gigantic machine w7as soon exhausted, however, and it
stopped like a being out of breath, upon the border of the avenue,
when we prepared to set our feet again upon the ground.
We hoped to be able to keep the balloon inflated, by filling the
car with large stones, and to continue our journey, as our noble
companion intended to return to Paris. But the storm burst upon us
with a torrent of rain, which continued until midnight, and trans-
formed the streets of the towTn into a series of small rivers and lakes.
By the aid of a numerous concourse of people, who ran to see us
descend, we were enabled to secure our instruments, and to empty
the balloon of its gas. Night had scarcely come upon us when we
were received by the hospitable family of the late M. Goldschmidt,
the talented and laborious astronomer who was lost to science a
year before.
K
130 TEA VELS IN TEE AIR.
We touched ground at a quarter to eight, having travelled here
from Paris at the rate of an ordinary railway train. We had evi-
dently been drawn towards the tempest by a species of attraction.
The motion of different zones of air towards the point of lowest
barometrical pressure is easily explained, and accounts for the general
behaviour of cyclones and tempests. If, instead of descending, we had
remained in the zone of the storm, in spite of the thunder and light-
ning which began to surround us, we should have stayed our course
for a moment at Moret, and then we should have been carried back to
Paris by the storm itself, where we should have arrived about nine
o'clock. To be carried along thus on the wings of the lightning
would be, doubtless, worthy of a man of science, but it would
be prudent to ascertain beforehand whether the gas might not be
influenced by the electric flash, and so precipitate us on to the plains
below ; or whether the tempest would only carry along bodies already
struck by the lightning. In both cases the destiny of the aeronaut
would be the same. But perhaps the balloon might escape, on
account of the isolating material of which it is made. The experi-
ment would be a fine one to try, but might result in most disagreeable
consequences.
The feelings of an aeronaut during a balloon ascent are almost
impossible to describe. To the contentment of finding oneself floating
high above the miseries of mankind, is added the feeling of a strange
and absolute calmness, such as is never experienced upon the earth.
I myself never felt any giddiness, but my companion, Count Branicki,
was affected by it from the moment we left the earth until we had
passed over Villeneuve-Saint-Georges. There appears, however, to be
something imaginary about this; for the very time that the Count
should have experienced giddiness — that is, wdien he consented to look
down upon the earth — the feeling left him. If the sides of the car
had not rendered the thing quite impossible, our companion would
certainly have allowed himself to be drawn down to the soil of
France. I may add that, without having experienced this disease of
vision, I also felt a vague desire to throw myself out of the balloon.
Though feeling convinced that it would be certain death, I was under
the influence of a mild temptation to allow myself to fall, and my
death became for the moment a matter of indifference to me. But,
happily to those wdio travel in balloons, it is a species of temptation
which there is no difficulty in resisting. These sensations are, I hope,
confined to aerial navigation.
A little drama, such as might interest the audience of a theatre,
took place during our descent. In the middle of the tempest, our
MY FIRST AERIAL VOYAGE.
131
aeronaut, casting a rapid glance at the forest, suddenly took out of
his bag an immense Spanish clasp-knife, which he attached to the
network by a steel chain. What did this mean ? Did he intend to
sever the ropes, and so cut short our descent ? Why was the knife
brought out? This forms the serio-comic denouement of the piece.
The knife was destined, at precisely the proper moment, to cut the
string which held together the coil of rope to which the anchor or
grapnel is attached. It is fastened to the rigging, in case it should
escape from the hand at this critical period. Eugene Godard is
prudence itself personified, and is exceedingly clever in managing to
procure a safe descent. More than once he has actually been able to
cause the balloon to descend into a certain field into which he has
called the peasantry who were on the look-out. This ascent which he
made with me was his 904th excursion. The descent is, without
doubt, the most dangerous moment of the expedition, but it is
also a moment in which man feels some pride in his power over
the elements.
Thus terminated my first journey in the air.
WE TOUCH THE Tors OF THE TREES.
K 2
LEAVING TAIUS IN A> BAL10ON.
CHAPTER III.
MY SECOND VOYAGE, 9TH JUNE, 1867 — DESCRIPTION OF THE BALLOON —
CONDITIONS OF SECURITY REQUIRED FOR AN AERIAL VOYAGE.
Before proceeding with an account of this second journey into the
atmosphere, it is requisite to say a few words upon the method
employed to inflate the balloon, and on the principal precautions
taken to ensure the aeronaut from danger during an ascent, and whilst
he remains isolated in the air. The novel impressions produced l>y
our first expedition have caused us to neglect these material details,
which have, nevertheless, sufficient importance to deserve a rapid
glance here.
The inflation of a balloon is usually done with carburetted hydrogen
gas, or street gas, the mean density of which is about one-half that of
air. Although much heavier than pure hydrogen, it is much easier
to manage, and instead of being manufactured on the spot at great
expense, like the latter, it is procured at once from some gasometer
in the town or from a gaspipe. When an ascent is to be made from
some scientific establishment, the gas may be got from the neighbour-
ing pipes, and we need only take exactly the quantity requisite to inflate
the aerostat. Such is the manner in which I managed the inflation
at the garden of the Conservatoire. It is not only ah expensive, but
a very laborious undertaking to charge a balloon with pure hydrogen
MY SECOND VOYAGE. 133
gas ; it takes numerous carboys of sulphuric or hydrochloric acid,
and many hundredweights of iron, to produce a sufficient volume
of hydrogen gas. A series of connected vats or barrels must be
filled with the acid diluted with water, and the gas conducted into
a vat where it is washed ; it must also be dried by passing it over
quicklime, and cooled by a stream of water. After all these pre-
cautions it is conducted to the balloon by means of a long tube.
Again, hydrogen is of all gases that which possesses cndoscmosic or
permeating properties in the highest degree; it permeates through all
kinds of membranes, whether of vegetable or animal nature, with
singular ease. A jet of hydrogen gas which strikes perpendicularly
upon a sheet of paper, passes through it almost as easily as if there
were no obstacle present. The quantity of any gas which permeates
through an envelope, of whatsoever nature, is in inverse ratio to
the square root of its density (specific gravity). Now, the density
of hydrogen is 14J- times less than that of air; hence, about four
times more hydrogen passes through the membrane of a balloon into
the air, than air passes in to replace it. A constant loss thus goes
on, which cannot be remedied, unless some recent experiments on
this point by M. Griffard, which appear likely to overcome the
difficulty, should meet with success. This is another reason why
carburetted hydrogen, or stroet gas, is preferable lor inflating
balloons.
All our works on physics agree in telling us that care must be
taken not to fill the balloon quite full, for, as atmospheric pressure
decreases as we rise, the gas is dilated and would burst the envelope
by its expansive force. We have indeed here one of the most neces-
sary precautions that an aeronaut can take. Not only is the balloon
never entirely filled, but its lower part, called the appendage, or tail,
remains constantly open, so that as the balloon swells on rising, the
dilated gas finds easy access from this opening.
A current of cold air, or the shadow of a cloud, sometimes suffices
to bring about a condensation or shrinking in place .of a dilatation.
When this elfect is very marked, a small quantity of gas also issues
from the same opening. If the balloon were entirely closed, it would
be constantly liable to burst, even if it were only partially full of gas,
for we cannot tell beforehand how great a dilatation anay occur during
the ascent, either from the diminution of atmospheric pressure, or 1 > v
the direct action of the solar rays. The dampness or dryness of the
air may also have an effect upon the volume of the gas ; so that the
above-mentioned precaution is absolutely necessary. Indeed, from
not having observed it sufficiently, a well-known aeronaut, Mr. Wells,
134 TRA VERS IN THE AIR.
met with his death last year (1869), in the month of July. He
was precipitated to the earth near Milan, from a height of some
6,000 feet.
The substance of the balloon is formed of long gores of strong
silk or india-rubber cloth, sewn or cemented together, and covered
with a linseed-oil varnish to render them as impermeable as possible.
The summit of the balloon is enclosed by a wooden hoop, which, in
balloons of the capacity of 30,000 cubic feet or thereabouts, is one
foot in diameter. It is in this hoop that the valve for letting out
the gas is fixed. This valve is composed of two semicircles con-
nected with the diameter of the hoop by hinges. These semicircles
push against the upper part of the balloon and open inwards : a rope
attached to their centre passes through the balloon and comes out
of the opening in the tail ; its extremity reaches down to the car.
This rope, therefore, represents the vertical diameter of the aerostat.
When we stand up in the car, we can see the whole interior of
the balloon, and the gores of silk converging to the central hoop
and valve.
A net composed of tolerably close meshes is attached to the hoop
and envelopes the whole of the upper portion of the balloon. It is
to this net that the car is attached; the principal cords of the net
are knotted to a horizontal wooden circle, or hoop, nearly two yards
wide, from which are suspended six or eight ropes, terminating in
strong iron hooks spun firmly into their tissue. Six or eight more
ropes spun into the wicker-work of the car, and passing through the
bottom of it, where they cross, rise to a little height above the
borders of the car, and have their extremities provided with stout
metallic hoops corresponding to the hooks of the ropes suspended
from the circle. When those hoops are passed over the hooks, the
aeronauts can take their places on the seats in the car, with their
instruments, maps, provisions, and ballast, and may abandon them-
selves without fear to the ascensional force of the balloon and the
currents of the atmosphere.
When there is no violent wind blowing at the surface of the earth,
the most agreeable method is to ascend slowly and progressively.
This is particularly necessary (though it has been rarely observed) in
scientific expeditions, in order to allow the thermometer and hygro-
meter time to give proper and reliable indications. This result may be
obtained by weighing the balloon exactly, so that at the surface of the
ground, just before starting, it has nearly the same weight as its own
volume of air. Two men can then hold it down by ropes which are
usually left hanging below the car, and when the order to " let go " lias
MY SECOND VOYAGE. 135
been given, a few pounds of ballast thrown out of the car suffice
to allow the balloon to soar majestically upwards into the regions
of the clouds.
It usually rises in an oblique direction, under the combined in-
fluence of the vertical ascensional force and the direction of the
wind. As soon as it mounts into a stratum of air having the same
density as itself, it ceases to ascend (unless more ballast be thrown
out), and follows a horizontal course, that of the aerial current. The
balloon proceeds with the wind, and is quite motionless as regards
the particles of air which envelope it. That is the reason we never
or rarely feel a current of air in the car of a balloon, even when
travelling through the atmosphere at the speed of an express train.
As a balloon rises in virtue of the difference of its own weight
and that of the volume of air which it displaces, we can calculate
beforehand both the weight it will carry up and the height to
which it will reach.
My second scientific expedition took place on the 9th June, 1867.
It was to be made in two stages : observations were to be collected
in a zone fixed between 1,640 feet and 2,625 feet of elevation, until
sunset ; and other observations were to be made the next morning
at sunrise, and prosecuted to the greatest height which the aerostat
was capable of attaining. The weather was magnificent and highly
favourable to our projects.
It might be thought that journeys in a balloon are all very similar,
. and that the description of one ascent might do for a hundred others.
But this is by no means the case. Each excursion has its own special
characteristics and its peculiar interest. The state of the atmosphere
is so variable, that if we travelled several times along the same aerial
route we should still meet with variety, and a long series of careful
observations would be necessary to compare the various pheno-
mena observed, in order to render them of some use to science in
future years.
In this ascent, as in the first, I was accompanied by two persons.
M. Eugene Godard had the care of the balloon, and the other seat was
offered to M. de Montigny, who was not to accompany us the next
day in the high ascent I had projected.
We started at 5h. 57m. and rose obliquely in a S.S.W. direction,
passing over the Palace of the Exposition and the Artesian well at
Grenelle. As we crossed above the plain of the Champ de Mars, a
peal of bells saluted us : it was rung by M. Bollee, the clever manu-
facturer of the said bells, who little thought that we should descend
next day close to his brother's bell-foundry at Orleans ! At six
136 TRAVELS IN THE AIR
o'clock we sailed quietly over Villejuif at the height of 2,543 feet.
Here for the first time the tumult in Paris was quite inaudible, and
we enjoyed peaceful Nature and a perfectly pure air.
At seven minutes past six we floated over the village of Thiais.
The shouts of the inhabitants would have made us aware that we
were above a populated district, had we not already noticed the little
square roofs of the houses, and the small gardens. It was rather
a curious spectacle to see all the pedestrians standing still in every
street, with their eyes turned towards the heavens, looking at us.
Soon, however, the balloon sailed away across the country, its shadow
travelling along over the green fields. On this occasion I made an
interesting remark: the said shadow is completely surrounded by
a vellowish white aureola, such as is seen painted round the heads
of saints. The tint of this aureola is much lighter than the surface
of the ground over which it passes. The next day we saw the
shadow of the balloon under still more interesting circumstances,
as we shall relate presently.
Now we soar rather more to the east, and shall soon cross the
Seine at Ahlon.
1 forgot to note a curious fact when we passed overthespol at which
the Marne flows into the Seine. The water of the Marne, which is
as yellow now as it was in the time of Julius Caesar, does not mix
with the green water of the Seine, which flows to the left of the
current, nor with the blue water of the canal which flows to the
right. We therefore see a yellow river flowing, as it were, between
two brooks, one of which is green and the other blue. This singular
contrast between the waters of the Marne and the Seine subsists
even beyond the railway bridge.
If travelling in balloons were commoner than it is at present, what
facilities it would confer on topography and surveying in general !
Without taking any tickets or waiting in dusty stations, we quitted
the Orleans Railway to take the line to Lyons. Montgeron shows
itself for a while at our left hand, and then seems to retire into the
distance. The silence which surrounds us is remarkable ; it is only
interrupted by the hum of winged insects in the country below.
We were just reflecting upon this, and had allowed our machine
to descend to within about 656 feet of the earth whilst passing over
the Seine, so that we might see things down below somewhat more
distinctly, when we were suddenly surprised by the sound of a
powerful and sonorous voice : " Come down here ! Let yourselves
down here! I shall be glad to see you to dinner at the chateau."
We thanked our would-be host, but declined his kind offer, passed
MY SECOND VOYAGE. 139
over the Chateau Fraye, remaining for some minutes at the same
slight elevation, and enjoyed the pleasing spectacle presented to us by
groups of family parties dispersed over the country, or dining on the
green sward in the shade of some noble tree. We then rose to about
1,500 feet by throwing out a little ballast.
I have just said that we allowed the balloon to descend to within
a short distance of the ground. My readers will perhaps imagine
that this was done by a pull at the valve-rope and allowing some gas
to escape. By no means ! gas is far too precious to the aeronaut to be
wilfully wasted, and we should want all we had the next day. The
fact is, a balloon descends of its own accord as soon as it has reached
the point to which its ascensional force at first carries it. Although
it is composed of two envelopes of silk stuff, it is not completely
impermeable, and, besides this, its lower part or neck remains con-
stantly open above our heads. When the solar warmth causes the
gas to dilate, some of it escapes from below. Again, when the
atmosphere cools in the evening, the aerostat shrinks somewhat, and,
occupying a smaller volume, becomes a little heavier than before. It
therefore descends naturally towards the earth. A clever aeronaut
rarely touches the valve-rope — except indeed to open this valve
completely when he descends for good ; he must be able to keep the
balloon at one given height by means of a judicious management of
his ballast ; a single handful of ballast quietly let out causes a con-
siderable rise.
Kising again into the air — coming over the forest of Senart, on the
Mainville side — we once more get a glimpse of Paris in the north-
west ; and the city appears covered by an immense cloud of dust,
which is whitened by the rays of the sun. This vast accumulation
of dust is doubtless to be attributed to the stir created by the feet of
the many persons who have come to visit the National Exposition,
without counting that which is raised by horses and carriages.
Nevertheless, from this position we distinguish certain towers like
so many masts, those of Notre Dame, the Sainte-Chapelle, the Pan-
theon, the Invalides, and the Arc de Triomphe. What a difference
between this dusty atmosphere and the pure air we are breathing
over the green fields and the forest trees !
When over the heather, we hear the mournful call of the quails.
The aerial skiff pursues its horizontal course between the Orleans and
the Lyons lines of railway. We must be approaching a village, for
loud shouts reach our ears. It is Tigery, and we are passing out of
the Seine-et-Oise into the department of Seine-et-Marne. Corbeil
recedes from us on the right.
140 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
Butterflies hover round the car of the balloon. Until to-day I
imagined that those little tilings passed their short existence among
the flowers of the fields, and that they never rose to any great height
in the air. But in fact they rise higher than any of the birds of our
forests, and soar to many thousands of yards above the ground, as we
were able to convince ourselves a little later. Another thing strikes
us: they do not appear to be frightened by the balloon as birds are.
How is this? It may be that great weakness has nothing to fear from
great strength ; and perhaps the eyes of these insects do not see
things as the eyes of birds see them.1 . . . Thus, at every moment, a
thousand unexpected problems present themselves on an aerial voyage
of discovery.
At twenty minutes past seven a slight fog spread itself over the
country ; the same observation was made, but an hour earlier, on
our last voyage.
A train passes beneath us, running towards Lieusaint, and the
harsh whistle of the locomotive strikes our ears. What a dust and
what an infernal noise they make, and, after all, how slowly they go in
comparison with the rapidity of our smooth aud silent course through
the pure air !
Some small parachutes which we throw out from time to time
fall towards the ground with a spiral motion.
The Seine stretches over the country like a silver serpent more or
less coiled up. From our balloon we could make a splendid survey of
the district beneath us. The view, as we cross the river and follow
the route from Pringy to (Jhailly, is one marvellous panorama, whilst
the odour of the green woods rises up to us and forms the sweetest
of perfumes.
As the sun sank below the western mist, the heavens around us
were lit up by a warmer tint, ami the entire plane was tinted by its
oblique red rays. We heard the watchdogs of the peasants bark,
and sometimes we saw hundreds of persons running together under
the balloon, thinking it was about to descend into their fields. 13y
consulting the map of the country we found that we were travelling
towards Nemours ; but we could not have reached it at that height,
for we had not enough ballast left to enable us to pass over the forest
1 May the tact not be explained by assuming that butterflies are carried up into
these high regions by currents of air which they cannot resist, but which are not
.strong enough to take effect on birds I It is nevertheless astonishing what a powerful
current of air a common house-fly on a window-pane can resist. — T. L. P., Trans-
lator. [I never saw a butterfly, or any winged insect, at any elevation, and the few
insects 1 saw were doubtless taken up by the balloon. — Ed.]
MY SECOND VOYAGE. 141
of Foutainebleau. As my evening observations were all made, we
decided on descending near to a charming little village — exceedingly
small as seen from the sky — which lay snugly, like a young deer, on
the borders of the forest. This village was about a mile and a quarter
on before us. The scattered population of the district noticing that
the balloon was about to descend, imagined that we were making for
Chailly, and the inhabitants of this place had already run out to meet
us ; but we passed quickly over them. Soon, however, all the
pedestrians dispersed over the country ran together in a considerable
crowd underneath us. The sky was deliciously pure, and the air
at the surface of the earth absolutely calm. Slowly and gradually we
float towards the ground. Cries of " Come down, come down ! we
will take you back to Barbison . . . dinner is waiting for you," assail
us on all sides. We throw a rope, and some three hundred people
make a rush to seize it ; a few broken noses do not appear to check
the enthusiasm at all. In an instant the rope is seized by fifty stout
hands, and M. Godard then shouts to them to move along the road
and not to injure the crops. The recommendation is carried out
unanimously ; the road is gained, and we are towed at 500 feet from
the ground to the entrance of the village of Barbison, long celebrated
as the resort of artists and huntsmen. On this occasion, indeed, the
cors de chasse sounded by the men who walked on before echoed
wildly through the forest shades.
We descend with truly royal gravitjr — how different from our first
descent ! The ladies who were enjoying village life at Barbison
were very anxious to test their feelings in a balloon. We all know
how anxious the daughters of Eve are to experience any new sensa-
tion. Godard took some of them up in the captive balloon to a
height of some 500 feet, whilst I placed my instruments in their cases
and made acquaintance with some of the distinguished artists who
come here to study Nature.
The car of the balloon was safely placed at the side of the road
and loaded with heavy stones. Two men mounted guard near the
balloon all night, and I assured them that if they smoked near it,
they woidd probably inflame its vast volume of gas, and that it would
destroy all the country around ; also, that if they touched the envelope
and made the smallest hole in it, the gas would issue from it in
torrents, suffocating and poisoning the whole neighbourhood, and
probably also the adjacent villages in less than ten minutes ! T need
scarcely add that the balloon was well guarded. Numbers came from
every quarter of the place, and during the whole of the evening, to
inspect the aerial pilgrim as it stood majestically gently oscillating
142
TEA VELS IN THE AIE.
at the extremity of the Grande Eue. Diaz, the well-known figure-
painter, took it into his head to sketch the profile of a boy who stood
before us with his arm stretched out, and he placed the balloon, which
formed the background to his sketch, on a level with the boy's hand,
as if he were holding up a magnificent top.
To those who look upon aeronautic expeditions as frivolous, and
not wortli the attention of scientific men, I cannot do better than
quote the following words pronounced by Arago on the occasion of
Gay-Lussac's ascents. " Beautiful discoveries," he said, "will reward
those who make scientific excursions in balloons. It is much to be
deplored that those ascents which are made almost every week in
more and more dangerous circumstances, and which must accidentally
terminate in some fearful catastrophe, should have the effect of causing
scientific men to give up their proposed ascents. I understand their
scruples, but do not share them. The spots on the sun, the mountains
of the moon, Saturn's ring, and Jupiter's belts, have not ceased to
occupy the attention of astronomers, though they are nightly to be
seen for one penny on the Pont Neuf or on the Place Vendome and
other open places. The public of the present day is too enlightened to
confound together for one moment those who risk their lives to gain
a livelihood, and astronomers or meteorologists who run into danger
in order to wrest from Nature some of her secrets ! "
CAPTIVE ASCENT at n\nmsoN
BUTTERFLIES HOVERING R:iCND THE CAR OF THE BALLOON.
CHAPTEE IV.
MORNING ASCENT — THE BLUE SKY — THE RESPIRABLE ATMOSPHERE.
A third part of our existence is passed in sleep : eight hours a
day, on the average, including the time occupied in preparing for
sleep, or in rising. If we observe, moreover, that the first fifteen
years of our life, or thereabouts, are gone before our intellectual
faculties are sufficiently developed, we find that a man who thinks
he has lived sixty years because he happens to have arrived at
that age, has in reality only enjoyed life for thirty years. Again,
if we subtract from these thirty years the time necessarily lost
in eating and drinking, and time wasted or spent unprofitably, we
find that the longest existence on this earth, however well occupied,
is quite insignificant when compared with the time which is required
for the development of scientific research.
Whilst morning slumber retains us on our soft couches, Nature
accomplishes marvels upon the earth.
Our balloon remained all night, inflated and ready to start, on
the confines of the forest of Fontainebleau. Next morning, at
break of day, we sallied out to take possession of it again, and
to return into the regions of the air. I busied myself with the
necessary preparations for the observations that were about to be
made, and took my seat in the car, Godard having placed himself
1-U TRAVELS IN THE A IE.
opposite anil taken the management of the balloon ; whilst our
other companion took leave of us.
It is the loth June, 1807. Time : sunrise. The air remarkably
pure, and the country around scented with the damp perfume of
the fields and the woods.
We quit the ground at five minutes to four o'clock, and rise very
slowly on account of the dew deposited during the night upon
the surface of the balloon and adding to its weight. Some
peasantry, going early to work, stay to see us start, and stand in
a circle round the balloon, gazing at us with astonishment as
we ascend.
We see the sun rise majestically above the misty horizon, but
the silence of the morning surprises me. I was accustomed to
believe that, at such a moment, birds sing and insects buzz, and
all living beings duly recognize the advent of day. This morning,
however, though the sky is wonderfully clear, the rays of the
morning sun cause no such effect, and seem to be received by
Nature with a kind of indifference.
The balloon, on leaving, passes over the little village whilst we
are scarcely 330 feet above the soil ; the dogs of the village either
see us or scent us, for they bark furiously, whilst turkeys, ducks,
and cocks crow often ; our appearance in the sky frightens them ;
numbers of large black crows fly off with plaintive cawing as we
approach.
The wide fields appear covered with water, but it is merely
the white fog which lies upon them ; from a distance they resemble
vast lakes. "When we pass directly over these layers of fog, they
appear formed of so much swan's down.
The direction of the current which carries us away to-day is
precisely at right angles to that by which we arrived in this district
yesterday. We are travelling towards the south-west. This is
the lower current. A little higher it becomes south-south-west,
and, higher still, it will carry us directly south. In descending
we shall pass agfrin into the S.S.W. and S.W. currents, so that
our course, traced horizontally over the ground, will represent the
figure of a very elongated S.
At the surface of the earth an absolute calm has reigned since
sunset ; but the higher we rise in the air the more rapid the
current becomes. The contrary generally holds good during the
day, especially just before and after noon.
Our morning ascent is enlivened by the song of the lark. We
pass over a hill df reddish-coloured rocks, which', seen from a
MORNING ASCENT. 145
distance, has the appearance of being covered with autumnal leaves.
A very light, wide-spread fog exists beneath us. Our height is
now 2,411 feet. The sky is quite clear, but a zone of grey vapour
lines the horizon, and rises to a height of 394 feet ; we are just rising
out of it.
The humidity of the air was very great when we left ; it was
indicated by 93 in a very accurate Saussure's hygrometer. It never-
theless increases as we rise, until a height of 492 feet is reached,
at which point the hygrometer stands at 98. As we rise above this,
the humidity diminishes. At 919 feet it is indicated again by 93,
as upon the ground ; at 984 feet it is 92 ; at 2,461 feet we note 86 ;
at 3,609 feet, the hygrometer stands at 65 ; and at 3,832 feet at 64.
So that the atmosphere evidently becomes gradually drier tha higher
we rise.
Some little white butterflies fluttered round the balloon when we
were about 3,281 feet above the earth. We rose to a height of 4,101
feet ; our thermometer was then 7°"2 Fahrenheit lower than at the
surface of the soil when we started ; the hygrometer stood at 62, and
our timepiece marked 4h. 5 5 in.
A singular phenomenon is observed with regard to the shadow
of the balloon. We saw it yesterday evening travelling over the
fields, and it was Hack, circular, and surrounded by a slight
penumbra and an extensive aureola. It is now white. It appears
like a vast luminous patch covering several acres of ground ; it is
much larger than the little t«^vn of Milly. This appears to me
so surprising that I pass at least half an hour in observing it,
in order to convince myself that it is always opposite the sun, and
that it travels along with us. The surface on which it falls, whether
forest or field, appears more luminous than the rest of the country.
Can it be possible that the balloon produces the effect of an immense
glass lens ?
This phenomenon was observed till a quarter-past seven, when
it ceased to be visible. At half-past seven the shadow was black,
and had an aureola or halo round it. A person placed in this
shadow might have attributed it to the effects of a curious kind,
and it may be imagined, from the preceding observation, that
shortly before the eclipse would have been a luminous one ; but
attentive inspection of the phenomenon shows it to be what is
called an anthclion.1
1 Anthelia are not exactly rare phenomena upon the surface of the earth, but they
are not often seen to great perfection. According to Fraunhofer and Kamtz
(Meteorol, chap, xix) they are caused by diffraction. Mr. J. S. Tute, when in a boat
L
146 TEA VELS IN THE ATE.
At a quarter-past five we pass over Gollaiuville, leaving Malesherbes
cm the left. We are entering the Loiret, and our flight appears
to he directed towards rithiviers. We are now 4,921 feet high, and,
nevertheless, the most minute details of the vast tract of country
heneath us are easily distinguished. The Orleans forest is prominent
in the south-west, and beyond it the town of Orleans itself can be
perceived ; but it requires a good glass to recognize the towers and
the two white bridges.
The limit of our horizon extends to a considerable distance beyond
this. We now endeavour to ascertain how long sound would take
to reach us from the earth's surface, but our efforts are in vain ; our
most powerful notes cannot arrive at the ground from such a height,
and no, sound returns to us.
We hear, nevertheless, the whistle of a distant locomotive; and,
more than this, the barking of dogs in the village of Coudray, and the
guttural cackling of fowls, are distinguished with tolerable ease.
The roads and lanes spread over the ground are now reduced
to mere thin strings, ■ and the whole country is dotted over with
liliputian villages which we might count by hundreds. At half-past
five we were over Boissy-le-Brouard, at a height of some 5,742
feet. Butterflies again hover round us. What can they be doing
at such a height ? Did the balloon carry them up with it ? How-
ever this may be, they fly about as if they were in their natural
atmosphere.
The exact height of the balloon, determined by means of two
barometers, — namely, a mercurial by Fortin and an aneroid, — is
5,906 feet.
The green wooded valley which extends from the west of Pithiviers
to Malesherbes appeared to us something like a river, and Pithiviers
itself like a spotted dice. This winding valley is nevertheless from
1,969 to 2,297 feet wide.
at sea, whilst the sun shone, noticed a peculiar brightness round his shadow on the
water. The same effect has been seen, less perfectly, in strong moonlight, when the
shadow of an object is thrown upon grass covered with hoar-frost. Similar effects
are sometimes observed when shadows fall on the slopes of mountains, or over
wheat fields, and have been witnessed, likewise, by Scoresby, in the Arctic regions.
When the sun is near the horizon, and the shadow of an object falls on a surface
covered with dew, an aureola is observed around this shadow. In some cases
coloured bands are seen ; it is when the rays of light pass through two systems of
vesicules. The curious phenomena of the diffraction of light wTere discovered
in 1G63, by Grimaldi, of Bologna. They are explained in works on natural
philosophy, and the phenomenon is alluded to again by the author in a subsequent
chapter.— T. L. P.
MORNING ASCENT. 147
From La Beauce we pass on to GrUtinais. The ascensional force
of the balloon can still be increased. The barking of dogs becomes
much fainter ; it is heard, as in a dream, and for the last time. The
solar heat is felt with more intensity on our faces, for the cold
increases at our feet in the car, and not the slightest breath of air
comes to moderate the effects of the sun's bright rays. We pass
on to the eastern limit of the Orleans forest, at Vrigny-aux-Bois,
and at an elevation of 7,054 feet. We see the whole extent of
the forest, and even as far as the Luxembourg Garden in Paris,
the avenues of which, crossing each other at various angles, are
quite distinct. It is now six o'clock, and our aerial skiff still
sails upwards ; at twenty minutes past six we are 8,858 feet
high, and at half-past six we are no less than 9,843 feet above
the earth.
We may be said to have soared higher than the summit of Mount
Olympus, that ancient and solemn mythological mountain of Thessalia,
which, according to the most recent barometrical measurements, made
in the manner we have described above, is only 9,534 feet high, and
does not touch the sky as the contemporaries of Homer fondly
imagined. The gas bottle to which we are suspended in the air
rises at thirty-eight minutes past six to 10,827 feet, measured
perpendicularly, above the river Loire.
Here the most magical panorama which fantastic dreams could
evoke presents itself to our contemplation. The central district of
France spreads itself out beneath us as an unlimited plane, as rich
in colour as varied in tint, and which I can only compare once
again to a magnificently-painted geographical map. The space
around us is of the most perfect transparency. In the midst of
these blue heavens I rise from my seat, and leaning my arms
upon the edge of the car, I glance downwards into the immense
abyss. . . .
Down below, at 10,000 and odd feet beneath me, exist the
universal radiations of life and activity ; plants, animals, and men
are breathing in the lower strata of this vast aerial ocean, whilst
here above animation is already on the decline. Here we may con-
template Nature, but we repose no longer on her bosom. Absolute
silence reigns supreme in all its sad majesty. Our voices have no
echo. We are surrounded by a vast desert
The silence which reigns in these high regions of the air is so
oppressive that we cannot help asking ourselves if we are still alive.
But death does not reign here ; we are impressed only by absence of
life. We appear to appertain no longer to the world down below.
L 2
148 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
The vast scene towards which we are about to descend, how-
admirable it is !
What tranquillity, and what treasures ! Who could imagine that
in so delightful a residence man can live ignorant and corrupt,
deprived of these splendours, creating war and crime upon this
glorious bosom of beauty and of love !
The absolute silence of which we have just spoken is truly im-
posing ; it is the prelude of that which reigns in the interplanetary
space in the midst of which worlds revolve. The sky here has a tint
which we never saw before. Above us it appears of a dark greyish
blue ; its transparent and unfathomable colour gradually fades ; at
45° it is azure, at 25° pale azure, and on a level with our horizon
nearly white. Here the vault of heaven reposes on a circle of well-
defined clouds.
I shall teach nothing to my readers by informing them that
the blue celestial vault has no real existence. The air reflects the
blue rays of the solar spectrum from every side. The white light
of the sun contains every colour, and the air allows all tints to pass
through it except the blue, which it appears to choose specially,
and to reflect in every direction. This causes us to suppose that
the atmosphere is blue. But the air has no such colour, and the
tint in question is merely owing to the reflection of light. If
the air were blue in reality, distant mountains covered with snow
would, as Saussure once remarked, certainly appear blue; but this
is not found to be the case. The air is colourless, but it is not
absolutely transparent, since it retains and reflects the blue rays of
solar light.
Planetary space is absolutely black. The higher we rise towards
this external space, the thinner is the layer of atmosphere which
separates us from it, and the darker the sky appears. At a height of
9,843 feet we have passed through more than one-third of the atmo-
sphere, as far as weight is concerned. It is therefore not surprising
that the air above us should appear so dark, and that this shade
should gradually decrease towards our horizon. The decrease of
moisture adds its effect also in diminishing the intensity of the blue
tint above.
At this height we see the blue colour of the air beneath us as a
faint veil. As we rose the dryness of the air has increased. At the
highest point of our course the hygrometer marked only 25. The
thermometer suspended in the sun's rays marked 73°-4 Fahr., whilst
that in the car was at 460,4. A little later, during the descent, these
two instruments indicated 77° and 50° respectively. For a long period
MORNING ASCENT. Vol
of time we experienced a difference of 27° Fahr. between the tem-
perature at our heads and that at our feet.
One of the results of this excursion was to convince me that the
blue colour of the sky is principally attributable to the presence of
watery vapour in the air; and at an elevation of 9,843 feet this
moisture has diminished some three-quarters of its mean amount as
registered on the surface of the ground.
I did not expect to feel unwell on this excursion, and I can scarcely
say how it was that at a quarter to seven I felt a peculiar internal
chill, accompanied by a sensation of drowsiness. 1 breathed with
some difficulty, I had a singing in the ears, and for the space of half
a minute was troubled with palpitation of the heart. A dry feeling
in the throat, and the buzzing and singing sounds in the ears, may
perhaps be attributed to the rapidly increasing dryness of the atmo-
sphere. I drank a glass of water, which did me much good. In
uncorking the bottle which contained it, the cork flew out with a report
as if it had been champagne. This phenomenon is at once accounted
for by recollecting that we had at least one-third less air above us
than at the surface of the earth, and that the atmospheric pressure
was here reduced to two-thirds of what it was when we corked the
bottle before starting.
I was careful not to say anything to M. Godard as to my feelings,
being anxious to rise as high as we possibly could. Unfortunately,
my aeronaut himself experienced a sudden feeling of sickness about
yds time. At this moment we noticed that sounds made in the car
of the balloon were echoed back from the vast envelope of the aerostat,
which, as I have already said, is open at its lower extremity, and came
upon us as they would in a large empty concert-room. I then shouted
into the air as loud as possible, aud though the sound was not returned
by the earth, it came back to us with a sharp ironical accent from the
envelope of the balloon itself.
At what height might we have been at this moment ? To this
question I can furnish no precise reply, for having moved a plank in
the car of the balloon, in order to write more at my ease, I unfor-
tunately broke the tube of the mercurial barometer, the liquid metal
of which glided away into space beneath us. As for the aneroid, it
had already gone to the extremity of its course, and could supply no
further information.
The balloon was isolated, as it were, in a vacuum ; beneath us
stretches an immense abyss, above the infinite expanse of sky. The
sun appears less bright, probably on account of the absence of any
reflecting surfaces around us. Our aerostat revolves, from time to
152 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
time, around its axis, and the sun is sometimes seen on one side
of us, sometimes on the other, sometimes before us, and then
again behind us, though our course itself is invariable. When we
stand up in the car to endeavour to recognize any given object
on the earth's surface, we find occasionally that we are turning as
we sail along.
As our instruments no longer tell us how high we are, Godard
thinks it time to open the valve to descend a little. He confessed
to me afterwards that in the whole of his 905 ascents he never before
rose to such a height as this. Alas ! the man who was modest enough
to call himself my coachman, and whom I liked better to surname
my aerial automaton, could no longer obey my orders ; his perfidious
hand already grasped the valve-rope !
At this moment we distinctly heard the shrill whistle of a loco-
motive. We had just passed over the river Loire, at Chateauneuf,
and we sought in vain for the railway whence the whistle proceeded.
The origin of the sound was in reality only forty-nine feet above us :
the gas, as it issued from the balloon, whistled like steam.
We were obliged to open the valve several times, and to allow
more than 300 cubic feet of gas to escape before the aneroid barometer,
which had ceased to record any pressure, showed by a slight motion
of the index that we had really begun to descend in earnest. When
the balloon is at its maximum of dilatation, as ours was at that
moment, to let out gas is equivalent to throwing out a similar weight
of ballast, so that, instead of descending immediately, we at first
rose a little higher.
After having lost the considerable volume of gas just mentioned,
we sank down from the unknown height to which we had soared, and
when we arrived at 10,827 feet elevation the index of the aneroid
(which for the last quarter of an hour had been at the extreme point
of its course) began to move back again ; its movement was rapid
enough to be followed by the naked eye. We sank very swiftly
indeed, until we were only 5,249 feet above the earth, and the balloon
was again in a state of equilibrium.
The Loire, which we passed over five minutes ago, looks like a thin
ribbon ; we distinguish the bottom, with its streaks of sand which
mark its course and its overflow along the banks. Its aspect is that
of brown marble.
The geometrical figure taken by the earth's surface, as viewed from
such a great elevation, is somewhat paradoxical. The earth being a
spherical globe, it might be thought that on rising high above the
surface we should see something of this spherical shape. But the
MORNING ASCENT. 153
contrary is experienced in reality. As we mount higher the surface
of the earth, instead of this, actually flattens out, and seems to
becomes hollow underneath us, so that we feel that we are sailing, as
it were, between two concave glasses, the sky and the earth, which
seem to be soldered together at our horizon, and the concavity of
which is very considerable both above and below us.
This unexpected effect can be explained by the laws of perspective,
in the same manner that we account for the apparent sinking of
clouds from the zenith to the horizon.
"We descended almost in a straight line over Tigy. and now Ave are
sailing over La Sologne, at a height of about 5,249 feet. We have
remained at this elevation since six minutes to seven o'clock. Instead
of continuing our course to the south, we have taken a south-south-
west direction. I cannot help admiring the scene below ; neither the
ocean seen from the highest cliffs, nor the grandest views in Switzer-
land, are comparable to this magnificent plain beneath us. (Certain
observers at Chateauneuf saw our aerostat about the size of a man's
hand. The most powerful glasses did not enable them to distinguish
the network on the ropes.)
Death-like silence still prevails. We are slowly descending. The
buzzing in my ears recommences, and is more intense and disagree-
able than before. It is really quite troublesome, but gradually sub-
sides in about ten minutes. (Half an hour after landing a fit of
incessant gaping came on ; the air seemed to enter gradually, and by
intermittent puffs, into the inner portion of the ears.)
Some small parachutes which we throw out indicate that the
currents are variable underneath us. The immense plain of La
Sologne spreads itself out below, dotted with numerous ponds of
water.
As we have decided to come down, we pull the valve-rope again,
after having sailed for some time at a height of about 5,249 feet.
This extra loss of gas brings us down to 3,281 feet, and then to 1,969
feet, at which height the balloon is again in equilibrium, and we con-
tinue to sail along. It is much more prudent to descend gradually
in this manner than to allow a large escape of gas to take place all
at once, and to sink with dangerous rapidity ; moreover, it allows us
to choose our landing-place.
The thermometers gradually rise, and the hygrometers again indicate
increased dampness in the air ; the weather has remained fine, and
the song of the birds is now heard anew. We are only 1,640 feet
from the ground. We feel as though we had landed ; and whatever
may be the degree of excitement or scientific interest that attaches
154 TRAVELS IX THE AIR.
to these balloon excursions, I must confess that a certain amount of
tranquil pleasure assumes its rights as we approach the soil which we
have trodden from our childhood.
We are saluted by the reports of two guns. It is the Mayor of
Sennely, who has perceived our intended descent, and has already
harnessed his horses to come out and meet us. We pass directly over
the great oak-tree of Harronnieres, which measures twenty-one feet
in circumference ; the larks are singing gaily above the fields ; we
leave to our left the imperial domain of La Giillaire, and prepare
for landing.
At this moment some children who are tending the flocks raise
most distressing cries, and rush away with fright. They beat on their
poor animals before them, and endeavour to get as rapidly as possible
out of our way, for the balloon is descending obliquely, and its ribbon
flags, waving fantastically at each side of it, appear like long arms or
tentacles ! It is some formidable being coming from the clouds — it's
the Devil himself !
Fortunately, the great majority of the villagers were not of this
superstitious character, and knew that the monster in question was
only a balloon. We landed safely in a field at Youzon, in the canton
of Lamothe-Beuvron (Loir-et-Cher), at a quarter to seven o'clock. The
distance travelled in our journey of yesterday and that of this morning
amounts in all to 120 miles, which has been accomplished in six
hours and twenty minutes, during the whole of which time we never
felt ourselves in motion at all.
The mean velocity of the balloon may be stated, therefore, to have
been twenty-three feet per second. In our first journey the
velocity was somewhat greater, having been about twenty-six feet,
and as much as thirty-three feet per second as we approached
the storm.
Soon after our descent a south-west breeze sprung up, and increased
with intensity till twelve o'clock. Our balloon would have enabled
us to remain much longer in the air, and, had we continued to move in
the same zone and with the same velocity, we should have arrived at
Bordeaux before sunset ; but the object of this excursion was to make
observations at a great altitude.
I have been requested, in some letters addressed to me regarding
my remarks in the Siec/c, to define accurately the law which appears
to regulate the distribution of moisture in the air as we ascend. The
figures above given only relate to its gradual decrease on the day in
question, and many more observations are required in order to reply
to such queries. Nevertheless, 1 may state here that a careful investi-
MORXIXG ASCENT. 155
gation of the variation of moisture with the height, and of the varia-
tion of temperature corresponding to it, which were the principal
objects of this ascent on the 10th of June, have led, with the results of
my other excursions alluded to further on, to the conclusion that the
moisture of the air increases as we leave the ground until a certain
zone is reached, when it appears to be at its maximum. After this, as
we mount higher, it diminishes constantly to the highest regions we
can reach. As the moisture decreases, the diathermacy of the air,
or its transparency for heat, increases, so that the solar rays travel
through the atmosphere in the higher regions without being absorbed.
It results from this that the air itself is very cold, whilst the direct
rays of the sun are very keenly felt. Hence it follows that the
invisible watery vapour contained in the air plays a more important
part as regards temperature than the constituents, nitrogen and
oxygen, of the air itself. This moisture retains the warmth, and to
it we must attribute the temperature of the air as given by the
thermometer at different seasons of the year.
I have been asked to what height is it necessary to ascend above
Paris before a zone of pure fresh air is met with, and when every one
suffers from heat in the town below ? I may reply to this that
it is requisite to rise at least to an altitude of 1,600 feet before we
can consider ourselves quite free from Parisian dust, and that the
air is never perfectly pure and agreeable until we have soared beyond
the fortifications.
It was a medical gentleman of Issoudun who asked me the latter
question, and I may therefore take this opportunity of stating that
the day before I started on this aerial excursion I was suffering from
a severe attack of influenza, and had passed a feverish night without
sleep. My friends tried hard to prevent my departure, and I had no
little difficulty in escaping. But, it must be remembered, there are no
draughts in a balloon. In the air itself you are beyond the influence
of the air ! and when you rise only to a moderate height you find
yourself in an exceedingly mild climate, where you are not troubled
with the slightest breath of air. The fact is, that my influenza passed
away whilst I was in the balloon, and I recommend this observation
to the faculty ; for the day will perhaps come when they will send
their patients up to take air-baths instead of prescribing Trouville
or Biarritz.
We found that the silk globe of our aerostat, which was covered
with dew when we started, had been so thoroughly dried by the direct
rays of the sun, whilst we soared in the higher regions, that it
appeared as if it had been exposed to a hot fire ; and had not the
156
TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
balloon been open at the neck, as we have before stated, it would
inevitably have been burst at so great an elevation. After having
folded it carefully and placed it in a waggon, we found our way, seated
on this marvellous tissue which had carried us up to a height of
10,000 feet, to the railway station of Lamothe-Beuvron.
3*«
" IT'g THE DEVIL HIMSELF ! '
liiftiS^
THEY ARE DROWNED !
CHAPTEK V.
A VOYAGE IN TWO STAGES — EVENING : ST. CLOUD, VERSAILLES, DREUX.
NIGHT : VERNEUIL, LAIGLE, DESCENT INTO THE RIVER ORNE.
The ascent on Tuesday, 18th June, was in a westerly direction from
the very moment of our departure. In the evening ascent I was
accompanied by Baron de Eochetaillee and M. Eugene Godard ; in the
night ascent, by M. Godard only.
Though the Arc de l'Etoile may be considered the grandest and
most imposing entrance into Paris, the western end of the capital is
decidedly the most magnificent for leaving it in a balloon. "We get
clear of the town at once, and plunge into a region of silence in the
first minute of our excursion. We have scarcely said adieu to our
friends when we find ourselves over the green coquettish garden of
the Bois de Boulogne, with its brilliant ponds of water, and here and
there a little white sail like the wing of a swan, whilst the narrow
golden-coloured paths wind about the great park in elegant and
graceful curves. The woods of the various plantations, varying
in shade, present the aspect of so many delicately cut emeralds,
darker or more transparent, according to the inclination of the
numerous facets. Man alone has not produced this work of art ;
Nature has also taken her part in it, and animated the whole scene.
158 TEA VELS IN TEE AIR.
The green avenues have passed away, and now the celebrated park
of the Chateau de la Muette appears beneath us. Here it was
that, on the 21st October, 1783, at half-past one in the afternoon,
the first aerial voyage was accomplished. Here it was that man
first dared to abandon himself to the unknown regions of atmo-
spheric space !
Some of our readers may perhaps remember that it was not without
some difficulty that Louis XVI. would allow this first journey in the
air to be made. He feared lest the travellers should be deceived and
lost in the unknown regions of the meteors, or that the Montgolfiere
which carried them would take fire, and not only destroy their lives,
but cause a conflagration along its route.
The King would only permit the experiment to be made by two
criminals condemned to death. But the proud and courageous Pilatre
de Eozier, the first aeronaut, was indignant at the idea "that vile
criminals should have the glory of being the first to rise into the air."
He made every effort to ward off such a calamity, and, thanks to the
Duchesse de Polignac, governess of the royal children, he at last
obtained permission to make the first balloon ascent with his friend
the Marquis d'Arlandes.
It was from the courtyard below us that the aerial fire machine
rose and sailed across Paris, and among the witnesses of this extra-
ordinary ascent was Benjamin Franklin. This appears to have
happened a long time ago, but in reality it is scarcely eighty years
since, and it is just possible that some of our readers may actually
recollect the remarkable occurrence.
Alas ! only two years later, this same intrepid Pilatre de Eozier,
accompanied by M. Ptomaine, lost his life in endeavouring to cross the
Channel by means of a fire-balloon, above which was attached a gas-
balloon. They were scarcely twenty minutes in the air before the
two balloons caught fire, and the two unfortunate men were precipi-
tated to the earth at some three hundred yards from the seaside.
M. Eomaine still showed some signs of life, but Pilatre de Eozier was
completely dead, and all his bones were broken. He was twenty-eight
years of age, and engaged to be married to a young lady then at
school at Boulogne, who, according to the accounts published shortly
after this deplorable accident, could not survive the effect of it, and
died in convulsions eight days afterwards.
My memory had scarcely time to call forth these historical details
whilst passing over the spot where the first balloon ascent was made
b}7 man, than our aerostat had glided over the Chateau of St. Cloud.
We pass over the Seine, and over the private park where the future
A VOYAGE IN TWO STAGES. 159
Charles X. and father of Louis Philippe made an ascent in 1784 —
it was at a moment when the throne was very unsteady, and it was
hoped, perhaps, that a more solid state of things might be found
up above.
A-propos of this ascent made by the Due de Chartres (Philippe-
Egalite), the good-natured Madame de Vergennes said that it was
neither for love of science nor for the sake of the danger, but simply
to place the Duke a little above his difficulties ; in fact, that it was
the only way left of keeping his head above water !
We left at a quarter-past five, and in ten minutes our balloon
floated at a height of 1,970 feet above the Bois de Boulogne. The
hygrometer then marked 60 and 61, in lieu of 57, at which it had
stood a little time before ; and the. thermometer had sunk some
7° Fahr. It is probably to the increased humidity of tins region that
we must attribute the following fact : —
The balloon ceased to rise, and began, on the contrary, to descend
rapidly. In the space of two minutes we threw out no less than
forty pounds weight of ballast, in spite of which we sank from 1,970
feet to 755 feet in about three minutes. It was at this slight eleva-
tion that we crossed the Seine ; the loss of a few more pounds of
ballast allowed us to rise slowly to the height of 3,543 feet, at which
we passed over Versailles.
Not only is the landscape here, as I said above, one of the most
charming, but the country passed over is celebrated in the annals of
aerostation. It was from the great courtyard at Versailles that the
first attempt at aerial navigation was made, in presence of Louis XVI.
and Marie Antoinette, on the 19th September, 1783. To the basket
car of a Montgolfiere, or fire-balloon, a sheep, a cock, and a duck were
attached on this occasion; and I find in the Me'moircs Secrets of
Bachaumont, a curious letter, dated from Versailles on the 19th
September, in which he says : " When the car and the balloon were
found after the voyage, at Vaucresson, the sheep was grazing quietly,
the duck appeared in perfect health, but the cock had broken its
head." I also find in this letter a very curious fact which is not
generally known. " They (the two brothers Montgolfier) had caused
all the old shoes that could be collected to be brought here, and
threw them into the damp straw that was burning, together with
pieces of decomposed meat; for these are the substances which
supply their gas. The King and the Queen came up to examine
the machine, but the noxious smell thus produced obliged them to
retire at once."
By this time Paris had disappeared in the evening mist ; the last
160 TEA VELS IN THE AIE.
glimpse we got of it might be represented by a plain covered with
white stones, lit up by the last rays of the setting sun. We have
St. Cyr on the right. It is ten minutes past six, and the balloon has
turned half round, the snn now being on my right hand instead of on
my left, as it was a few minutes before. We pass over the Lake of
St. Quentin, and before us we see sparkling the pond of the Chateau
de Pontchartrain towards the north-west.
The crowing of a cock is distinctly heard ; it is a sign of the exist-
ence of civilization in the neighbourhood ; and, in fact, we are just
over the village of Notre Dame de la Roche. At present we are
gliding over the castle, I suspect, at the slight elevation of 160 to 330
feet, according to the undulations of the soil. Above the beautiful
valleys we sail along at a height of about 330 feet, and on passing
over the hills we almost touch the trees. We might easily rise to
six times this height by throwing out a little ballast, but the aspect
of the country is so beautiful this evening that we do not care to
do so. Moreover, we have some observations to make in these lower
strata of the air with regard to damp and dew.
The hygrometer rose gradually to 70 as we passed into these low
strata, and as the evening advanced. Our velocity has been very
variable : 1,230 feet per minute at starting ; 1,263 feet per minute
above Versailles ; 1,017 'feet per minute after we had sunk down
to a height of 500, to 1,362 feet while passing near Essarts and
Villemeux.
As we come over Essarts the children are frightened by our ap-
pearance, and utter shrieks of terror, the village ducks fly off to a
distance, all the inhabitants run out of their houses and follow our
course along the side of the pond of St. Hubert, which we are about
to cross. " They are drowned ! they are drowned ! " is the universal
exclamation which we hear from every side as our balloon sails close
to the water's edge. The best method of obtaining an accurate estimate
of the population of any given district is to cross over it in a balloon :
every soul rushes out of doors to look at you, and the people can be
counted like marbles.
The good people of Essarts followed us along the sides of the vast
pond of St. Hubert : the deepest curiosity was imprinted upon every
countenance. We cannot say whether or not they were disappointed
at the non-realization of their prediction, but the fact is that a small
sack fidl of ballast was at this moment thrown overboard, and we
rose to 1,640 feet at once.
The most curious experiment that can be made in a balloon when
passing over a lake or other wide sheet of water consists in observing
A VOYAGE IN TWO STAGES. 161
the beauty of the echo. No other surface is comparable in this
respect with that of water, especially for the purity and sonority of
the waves of sound that reach the ear. Eveiy syllable that you may
happen to address to the limpid surface comes back again with the
utmost clearness and distinctness, whilst much louder noises are
devoid of echo from the plains and fields.
Vast ponds lie to the west of St. Hubert. We leave the town and
forest of Rambouillet to the left ; at forty minutes past seven we
quit the department Seine-et-Oise and enter that of Eure-et-Loire.
At four minutes past eight the sun sets, its circular form being much
disfigured by atmospheric refraction — the disc appears flattened above
and below.
The winding course of the rivulet prevents our attempting a descent
until Ave arrive at Villeneux. Already many hundreds of the country
people have viewed us and are proclaiming our arrival by loud shouts.
A handful of ballast thrown out enables us to pass over the village
and to glide down quickly on the other side of it, near the gardens
which join the houses to the open country. It is now seven minutes
past eight, and we have travelled fifty-one miles, nearly in a straight
line, from Paris.
The more important observations to be made on this excursion
were reserved for our nocturnal expedition. They were to notice the
variation of moisture and temperature with heights during the night ;
to observe the dawn of day at the summer solstice ; the intensity of
the moon's light ; the brilliancy of the planets ; the formation of
clouds before daylight, &c. This part of the excursion was to be
made alone with my accustomed pilot. But whatever pleasure may
attach to those intellectual researches, the body must also be cared
for, and requires substantial support. Metis sana in corpora sano,
which, carefully translated, meant, " Let us go and get some supper
at Dreux before our next ascent." Dreux was only two leagues distant,
and we already got a glimpse of the sepulchral monument belonging
to the Orleans family.
The inhabitants of Villeneux had been made aware of our intention,
and took us along the principal street to the square. The streets here,
as in similar old-fashioned places, are lighted by lamps swung upon wires
across the road, which rendered the moving of the balloon a somewhat
difficult undertaking. We were drawn along by means of a couple of
ropes, and in two hours and a half we found ourselves at Dreux. The
men who had taken us thus in tow declared that they were rather
tired. But I proved to them, by means of algebra and the well-known
principle of Archimedes, that they shoxdd not feel any fatigue, for
M
L62 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
the balloon weighs no more than its own volume of air. However, I
dare not assert that they were convinced by this argument alone. A
promenade of two hours and a half duration in a captive balloon,
at eventide and in midsummer, is by no means a disagreeable ad-
venture ! and I cannot help thinking that the day will come when,
instead of travelling across the desert on the uncomfortable backs of
camels, the said dromedaries will have captive balloons attached to
them, and the passengers provided thus with the most delicious mode
of travelling it is possible to conceive. When we arrived at Dreux,
we found that the balloon could not be got into the town on account
of the telegraph wires. The men who had drawn us here were
therefore requested to bivouac around it.
II.
The silver light of the moon streamed over the country, and the
vast plane was completely still, as we left the hotel and proceeded to
our aerostat, the car of which had been loaded with stones. The
men had had no difficulty with it, for the atmosphere was perfectly
calm, and the balloon had remained quite motionless.
As soon as it was delivered of the weight which kept it down, it
soared quickly into the pure sky. My intelligent pilot poured out
the ballast with a careful hand, keeping his eyes firmly fixed upon
the barometer as he did so, whilst I gave myself up to contemplation
and study.
"We started at twenty-five minutes past one in the morning, just
as the moon had reached the meridian ; and at two o'clock we were
4,725 feet high : the thermometer had sunk from 50° Fahr.to 41°, the
hygrometer from 97 to 84, after having stopped for a moment at a
minimum of 79, when we were at a height of 2,625 feet. The
variation in the degree of humidity, therefore, is not the same at
night as by day.
The fact which struck me most during this ascent was the velocity
of the wind, or the displacement of the air in connection with the
altitude. Generally speaking, land winds (winds on the surface of the
earth) are more intense during the day than the higher currents, but
at night it appears that the higher currents are the strongest. But
from want of a sufficient number of experiences I cannot yet assert
that this is a general rule.
On the ground before we started the atmosphere was perfectly calm,
but we had scarcely risen more than 328 feet when we perceived that
Ave were being carried along at a considerable speed, which increased
M 2
A VOYAGE IN TWO STAGES.
the higher we rose. This velocity was thirty-four feet per second
during the first hour, and thirty-nine feet per second throughout the
next. Moreover, the direction of our route was not the same as in
the evening. I may observe that the aerostatic lines followed by
balloons, or in other terms the currents of the atmosphere, often
appear to form curves which tend to take a west or north-westerly
direction.
At the summer solstice the commencement of dawn and the
termination of twilight are very close together. We had scarcely
quitted the ground, at half-past one, when we saw quite distinctly the
first appearance of daybreak in the N.N.E. The white radiance of
the morning aurora showed itself first on a thin horizontal zone of
light, neatly terminated at about 15° above our horizon. I never saw
a softer and purer light than this. What we were looking at was, in
fact, the higher regions of the atmosphere lit up by the rays of the
sun then just over the Mid-Pacific Ocean. The celestial whiteness
of this approaching daylight was so exquisitely pure that the starlit
regions of the sky, though so transparent, appeared as if covered with
a leaden-coloured veil.
Some readers may think it strange that the first rays of dawn could
be seen at half-past one in the morning in spite of the light of the
moon. I was anxious to make this observation during the period of
new moon, and on the 30th June, the sky being extremely clear at
the time, I followed the faint twilight from eleven o'clock till one in
the morning, and saw it pass gradually from N.NW. to N.N.E. without
ever disappearing entirely.1 At this date the sun does not sink more
than 18° below the horizon.
Being desirous of ascertaining the relative intensity of moonlight
and the light of dawn, I compared them every five minutes. It was
exactly at 21i. 45m. that both lights were of equal intensity, and
then I could read a newspaper turned towards the morning aurora
as easily as when it was turned towards the moon. But here
a peculiar circumstance presents itself that may perhaps surprise
our readers.
The whiteness of the light of the moon has become proverbial.
When compared to that of candles, lamps, &c, the latter appears
yellow or reddish yellow ; the light of the moon causes even the
flame of hydrogen to appear so red that the moon itself is almost
blue by contrast. Thus the pale orb of night has become an emblem
1 We have frequently made the same observation in the neighbourhood of London
without the aid of a balloon, and in higher latitudes it is, of course, of common
occurrence. — T. L. P.
166 TEA VELS IN THE AIE.
of purity, and the whitest lily cannot compare its tint to that
of Phoebe.
I was therefore rather anxious to ascertain whether, when surprised
by the advent of Aurora, the goddess of night was as pure as her
reputation held her to be. The experiment was easily made, and
the photometer used, one of the most simple kind : some sheets of
white paper were exposed to the light of the moon, and then turned
towards that of dawn, and this was repeated several times, to enable
me to compare the tint and the intensity of the two sources of
light. Now, some time before these two lights were of ecpial in-
tensity, the pure white light of dawn had caused the other to turn
distinctly yellow !
It is perhaps well to observe here that the notes taken in the
balloon which form the skeleton of this narrative, were written some-
times by the light of the moon, sometimes by that of dawning day,
and now and then more or less in the dark. For it is prudent not to
carry any description of light in a balloon ; the envelope of the latter
being open at its lower extremity, the gas it contains may take fire
by the slightest spark, and, it is needless to add, the aeronaut would
be instantly precipitated to the earth.
The northern and southern portions of our heavens present two
very different aspects. In the latter the sky is deep, transparent, and
blue ; the mist which covers the earth appears like an ocean of fog ;
the moon rides calmly above the world of watery vapour. In the
former the sky appears covered or overcast, and, in the north-east,
terminated in a transparent opening. Directly overhead hangs the
enormous dark and apparently immovable sphere.
The principal spots on the moon's surface could be seen by the
naked eye, even the radiating mountain Tycho ; with a weak hand-
glass I could distinguish the smallest spots. "When I cast my
eyes upon the fog below, and thought of the winds which range
in these higher regions, it was not difficult to realize the diffi-
culties which are met with in observing the celestial bodies from
the lowest depths of the atmospheric ocean, and I could not help
recalling the obstacles met with in this respect at the Paris
Observatory, constantly surrounded as it is by the dust and steam
of a large city.
At twenty minutes past two we sailed to the left of a little scpuare
town ; at first sight we took it to be an orchard, but on examining it
more attentively we recognized some large buildings and a promenade
lined with trees. By referring to our map we made out that it was
the town of Yerueuil.
I 'V!m
1l¥\ i'1"
;,;« i «
A VOYAGE IN TWO STAGES. 169
At 2h. 55m. we pass over the town of Laigle. Deep valleys, in
which a slight mist rises, are all we can see of its soil.
Tt was here, above Laigle, in the region of the air where we are
now floating, that occurred the first fall of meteorites which was duly
investigated by science.1 It occurred on Friday, the 26th of April,
1803, a little after one o'clock in the afternoon, at a time when the
sky was as clear as it is now. Thousands of stones are said to have
fallen, and the celebrated Biot brought some fragments of them to the
Academy of Sciences at Paris. Never did a fall of aerolites throw a
country population into such a state of fright. Those who heard the
explosion without seeing the light of the meteor, were astounded by
this sudden production of loud thunder in the middle of a lovely
day; those who saw the stones hurled down from the skies by some
invisible power, falling with a cracking noise, on houses, on trees,
and sinking into the soil, might well exclaim, with the ancient Gauls,
that it was " the fall of heaven." Nothing less was required to draw
the attention of French philosophers in those days to the wonderful
phenomena of meteoric stones.
Our balloon passed through this region so celebrated in the history
of meteorology, and continued its flight over the department of the
Orne. Venus had just risen, and shines as a bright white star in
the golden dawn, and with even a purer light than it. Mercury will
rise too late to be observed. Mars sat before midnight. Saturn
creeps down towards the west. But the sceptre of the night is held
by Jupiter; I never saw this planet more brilliant, nor has it the
slightest scintillation. It appears as bright as the moon, and all the
stars, even those of the first magnitude, are pale in contrast with
it. About three o'clock the stars become extinguished, one after
another. Arcturus is the last to disappear ; but the moon and
Jupiter still remain visible, when the entire celestial army vanishes
at the approach of day.
Since I made this first nocturnal excursion I have often passed
the night in the air, as may be seen in the remainder of this narra-
tive, but I never had such fine weather nor so charming an excursion.
The temperature was 41° Fahr. at 4,921 feet above the earth, two
hours after midnight (it was 50° on the ground) ; at half-past two
it was 460-4 at the height of 3,281 feet; at three o'clock it was 510-8
at 1,312 feet, and therefore higher than that of the bottom of the
valley into which we descended, and where the thermometer marked
1 A complete account of this remarkable fall of meteorites is given in Phipson's
"Meteors, Aerolites, and Falling Stars," p. 37 et seq. London, 1867.
170 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
only 42° 8 half an hour later. Moisture was also now prevalent in
the valley.
The luminosity spread through, the atmosphere by the morning
dawn is very different from the light of the moon. By means of
the latter I could certainly read the indications of the various instru-
ments and write, nor did we ever cease being able to distinguish the
country below, the woods, fields, plateaux, and valleys. But this light
glides over objects rather than penetrates them. It sketches their
vague outline and produces a kind of semi-tinted map. With the light
of the morning dawn nothing of the kind occurs ; some time before
it is equal in intensity to that of the moon, it fills the entire atmo-
sphere and incorporates itself with its molecules. The air, the moun-
tains, the valleys, all imbibe it ; it penetrates the trees of the forest
and the grass of the fields. Everything appears animated by it, and
Nature seems to claim it as the universal cause of the life, force,
and beauty of all created things.
At twenty-five minutes past three o'clock we came over the village
of Gace, and descended into a field covered with dew, at the side of
the little river Touques„ which falls into the sea at Trouville. Having
allowed a little gas to escape, we came down to the ground, but we
scarcely touched it. Some bullocks that were grazing near the spot
appeared rather astonished by our descent, and after hesitating for
about a quarter of an hour they approached the balloon. It was a
herd of red bullocks ; they inspected us for some moments, and then
lowered their horns as if preparing for an attack. At this moment
a bac of ballast was thrown at the head of the animal nearest to
O
us, causing us to rise some twenty yards into the air, and to spring,
as it were, to the other side of the field. No men came up until
four o'clock, when some farmers approached and held the car
down whilst we stepped out, surrounded this time by another herd
of cattle.
The outspoken reflections which escape from the peasantry, men,
women, and children, grouped around the car after we have reached
the ground, are often rather amusing. Everything in or about the
balloon is inspected by them with the utmost scrutiny : the scientific
instruments seem to attract their attention in a wonderful manner.
The mercurial barometer placed in its travelling case is generally
taken for a telescope — " it is used to study the moon " — or sometimes
for a gun. The hygrometer is taken for a clock or a large watch,
and the reason given is "because the small hands of ordinary
watches cannot move high up in the air." The aneroid barometer
is always put down as a mariner's compass. Even an ordinary
A VOYAGE IN TWO STAGES.
171
drinking bottle or wine flask is looked upon as some mysterious
astronomical instrument, more or less connected with comets, meteors,
and shooting stars.
After all, nothing equals the charm of these aerial travels, and
at the end of every new excursion I cannot help regretting that
this wonderfully easy and luxurious mode of locomotion cannot yet
come into general practice. . . .
" - -
A DESCENT AMONG A HEED OF CATTLE.
"THE LIGHTS OF THE EVENING FIItEK WERE SEEN IN THE DISTANT VILLAGES."
CIIAPTEI! VI.
FROM PARIS TO LAKOCHEFOUCAULT-ANGoULEME. — SIXTH VOYAGE.
As all the preceding excursions were accomplished in perfectly fine
weather, I had not yet had the good fortune of passing through any
layers of clouds and investigating the atmospheric world ahove them.
The night on which I made my excursion into Normandy had passed
so quickly that I was very desirous of passing a whole night in the
atmosphere, even if the sky wTere covered with clouds, so that I might
make a long series of ohservations sometimes above and sometimes
below them. I began, therefore, to make preparations for this expe-
dition. Contrary to my usually reserved habits, I must have inciden-
tally mentioned my intention to some one, for I saw my forthcoming
ascent announced in the daily papers. Now, it so happened that
the Giant balloon, awaking from its long sleep, had also announced
a scientific ascent, and not only were the papers filled with the adver-
tisements of it, but the fact was placarded in every part of Paris.
The journals which had given some account of my previous balloon
excursions were kind enough to hint that the two balloons would
start together, and that the public were to witness a novel kind of
competition.
It was arranged between the. observers of the Giant and myself
that the two balloons should ascend at the same moment, for the
FROM PARIS TO ANGOULEME. 173
sake of noting the direction of the currents of wind. I therefore
begged M. Eugene Godard to inflate our balloon by four o'clock
precisely (the time mentioned on the aforesaid placards). A quarter
of an hour elapsed, but no Giant appeared ; another quarter of an hour
had flown, and still no signs of the Giant. We waited fifteen minutes
longer, but no Giant rose. This was too bad ! Perhaps some accident
had happened; but we could wait no longer, so at a quarter to' five
our beautiful aerostat rose above majestically into space.
The clouds did not appear to be very high, and, in order not to rise
into them too rapidly, we carried plenty of ballast and ascended very
slowly. The balloon veered towards the south, and afterwards towards
the south-south-west and south-west. We passed straight over
Grenelle, Vaugirard, Vauves, Chatillon, Fontenay-aux-Eoses, Sceaux,
Chatenay, and Antony. This northerly current appeared to be very
general, and to extend to a very great height, for a balloon which rose
with M. Louis Godard from Neuilly, and that of M. Nadar (the Giant
above mentioned), both followed a course parallel to ours. The first
fell at Clamart, and the second at Chilly, near Lonjumeau. As we
passed over the Trocadero and the site of the Exhibition we heard
the people shouting, and we saw, not without some interest, the form
of the Giant gliding as it were along the ground, whilst we bad
already risen nearly to the canopy of clouds above.
Whilst we admire the fine park of Sceaux, with its ponds and its
green lawns, we find ourselves carried bodily into the clouds. Our
height is 2,0(37 feet. The mercurial barometer of Fortin has sunk
from 2974 to 27"76 ; the thermometer from 68° to 59° Fahr. ; the
hygrometer has risen from 88 to 90, after having marked 85 at 1,080
feet. It is now twenty-seven minutes past five o'clock.
The balloon rises very gradually into the clouds. The atmosphe re
around us seems to become opaque, and the country below is seen as
if covered with a thick veil, which is thicker in the centre than at the
circumference. In a short time we can only descry the earth by
looking in a slanting direction beneath, and we are now completely
enveloped in an immense white fog, which seems to surround us, at a
certain distance, like an ill-defined sphere, without coming in actual
contact with us.
We also feel ourselves perfectly at rest in the midst of this dense
and opaque atmosphere, for we can no longer perceive whether we
move along horizontally or not, neither can we tell by looking at the
fog whether we are rising or sinking. Suddenly, whilst we are thus
suspended in the misty air, we hear an admirable concert of instru-
mental musk, which seems to come from the cloud itself and from a
174 Til A VELS IN THE AIR.
distance of a few yards only from us. Our eyes endeavour to pene-
trate the depths of white, homogeneous, nebulous matter which
surrounds us in every direction. We listen with no little astonish-
ment to the sounds of the mysterious orchestra ; then, turning to
my meteorological instruments, I find that the humidity of the air
decreases as we rise in the cloud, and that the temperature increases.
At 2,297 feet the hygrometer has sunk gradually to 87, and the
thermometer has risen to 62°'6.
A fog is much more sonorous than dry air, and collects sound with
such intensity, that whenever, in passing through a cloud, we have
heard a band playing in a town beneath us, the music always seemed
to be close at hand. At the limit at which sound can be perceived
through pure air, the interposition of a cloud, though it hides an entire
town from sight, is far from weakening sounds ; in fact, it may
happen that such a cloud enables the aeronaut to detect slight noises
which without it he would not have perceived.
We were serenaded by some excellent orchestral music whilst
sailing over Antony and over Boulainvilliers ; we were then entirely
enveloped by clouds, and about 3,280 feet above each of these
towns.
The silken globe of our aerostat slowly penetrates through the non-
resisting cloud medium, and carries us into more luminous regions.
Our eyes, which by this time have become accustomed to the dingy
light below, are now keenly affected by the increasing luminosity
which surrounds us. On all sides, above and below, the same white
light envelopes us, and it is quite impossible to say on which side we
have the sun. It is difficult to describe our situation at this moment :
we are in the midst of a kind of white ocean, through which we are
slowly penetrating. . . . But the light increases rapidly, and now the
sun appears in the white sky like an immense beacon-light placed
upon layers of snow.
Here we are again in broad daylight and with a clear sky. The
earth lies far below us, underneath the veil of clouds ; here we breathe
in a bright atmosphere, radiant with light and heat, whilst the soil we
have quitted seems shrouded in deep mourning.
When we were 330 feet above the higher surface of the clouds, we
soared along in bright sunshine, and in a region to all appearance
completely isolated from the earth ; we seemed to be between two
skies — the lower one appearing as if formed of white hills and valleys,
variously toned and shaded, offering some vague resemblance to very
finely carded wool, their size and depth diminishing gradually in the
distance.
■ a
1
11 P
..■,■':.,',.■■
FROM PARIS TO AXGOULEME. 177
The upper sky was of an azure blue, across which were disposed
a few fleecy clouds and white cirri, situated at a great height. We
remained for a whole hour above the clouds, during which I sought
in vain for words to describe the admirable and novel spectacle
before us.
The shadow of the balloon was depicted upon the ocean of cloud,
when it appeared like a second aerostat of a grey colour, sailing
among them. It appeared deprived of all motion, for it was carried
along by the same current which moved the clouds. The white hills
and valleys beneath us appeared solid enough to invite us to step out
of the car for a promenade among them.
At twenty-five minutes past six we heard a train leave some
railway station, which, on referring to our guide, we found must have
been that of Bretigny.
A small lady-bird (Coccindlu) flew into the car of the balloon at
this moment.
We rose gradually to a height of 6,230 feet ; the clouds, which
lay as a thick stratum at an elevation comprised between 1,640
and 2,950 feet, entirely hid the earth from our sight. Then a con-
densation occurred, and the balloon began to descend.
We remained until ten minutes to seven above the clouds, and
to all appearance perfectly still. Such is the delicacy of the
equilibrium of a balloon in the air, that when we sank a little
below the upper level of the cloiid stratum, ten ounces weight of
ballast thrown out was sufficient to cause us to rise again into the
blue sky. We did not sink again immediately, but at 6h. 50m.
we penetrated downwards into the cloudy mass.
The effect was exactly the reverse of what we had just before
experienced : first twilight, and then darkness, enveloped the solitaiy
balloon ; soon all was dark and dreary.
The condensation of the gas by the cold, added to our acquired
velocity, caused us to descend now very rapidly, though we had
never touched the valve-rope. In ten minutes we sank from a
height of 6,230 feet to 2,460. In two minutes more we fell sud-
denly 2,130 feet, and as we quitted the lower portions of the cloud
stratum we saw the earth rising towards us with frightful rapidity.
Godard threw out ballast by sacks ; and though this soon slackened
our speed, we had nevertheless fallen to within 330 feet of the
ground, and were just over Mesnil-Kacoing, near Etampes. Balain-
villiers was the last village we had seen through the clouds at
5h. 50m. ; we had travelled eighteen miles in one hour above
the clouds.
N
178 TEA FEES IN THE A IE.
The cloud stratum was 660 feet thick. At 3,280 feet in the air
the hygrometer was at 74, and increased to 83 as we descended
towards the earth. The thermometer marked 7;">°'2 above the clouds
and in the sunshine, and G4°-4 below them.
At forty-seven mimites past seven we saw the sun once more ; it
then appeared like so much molten iron ; and the clouds above which
we soared now seemed like high transparent mountains, tinted by
the yellow rays of the immense luminary. Small white cirri clouds
still floated high in the air. At five minutes past eight the orb of
day descended slowly into a sea of ruddy mountains of cloud.
Whilst we sailed along beneath the cloud level it was not yet quite
dark, and from the country which spread itself out before our gaze
rose a series of confused sounds, among which were the chirpings of
mole-crickets, larks, and quails. "When we soared into the pure sky,
twilight enveloped us in its extensive radiance. Sometimes, as
we descended somewhat towards the earth, the lights of the evening
fires were seen in the distant villages.
At half-past eight, as we floated at a very slight elevation over
Montigny and Teillay, we were observed by the inhabitants, some
of whom asked us where we were going. "To Orleans." "All
right," they replied ; " you have only to follow the road ; it is not
more than five leagues ; -only, when you have passed the forest, you
must turn a little to the right," " Thanks ! "
"We soon glided over the dark forest, and rose above the clouds
again in order to take advantage of the last rays of twilight ; we
remained at this height until night had fairly come on, and I made
observations every three minutes.
The twilight diminished slowly ; all noise at the earth's surface
had ceased, and the shades of evening had closed upon us.
To the north-west the sky remained faintly lighted by a vague,
distant glimmer; the clouds had become more transparent, and
from time to time the earth could be distinguished through
the misty air.
It was then 8h. 55m. Our height was 2,300 feet, and the ther-
mometer had sunk from G0°8 to 53C,G.
A few minutes later we heard cries of "A balloon! a balloon !"
which astonished us not a little, as we were then above the clouds ;
on looking down below, however, we found that we were in a little
well of clouds, and the people at the bottom of it had remarked
us through the opening.
We were then over Marigny. I hastily wrote a short despatch,
dated from the skies, at 9h. 15m., and, having addressed it to the
FROM PARIS TO ANGOULEME. 179
Orleans newspaper, I let it fall by means of a long ribbon of gilt
paper. I cannot tell whether this aerial despatch ever reached its
destination.
Before arriving at the river Loire we glided along from about
nine o'clock within 330 feet of the ground. I fancied that I saw
my written despatch fall into the river, for, in virtue of a well-
known law of mechanics, an object falling from a balloon cannot
follow a straight line to the earth, but describes an oblique course,
in consequence of the balloon's motion. Well, whilst we were only
about 300 feet above the ground, we not only heard, but could
distinguish in the dusk the form of a carriage wending its wTay
quietly along the road. Godard then took his speaking trumpet
and shouted directly over the vehicle. The driver was exceedingly
astonished, as may be easily imagined, stopped his horses, and,
looking up, perceived the balloon. We exchanged a few words
with him, and then sailed on in a south-south-west direction. It
was then 9h. 40m.
From this moment we rose to the cloudy canopy above. Throwing
out more ballast, we reached an elevation of 3,280 feet, and half
an hour later 4,100 feet. Night had come on, and the sky was
overcast. The darkness never prevented our being able to distinguish
the country, the roads, the rivers, the ponds, and the woods ; but
from this time my notes were written by guess-work: it is not
impossible to write legibly without seeing the paper.
In order to examine the instruments, I made use of a little glass
globe which I had stocked with glowworms.
We passed over the Cher at eleven o'clock, above Eomorautin, which
lies between Tours and Bourges.
The night was cold and dark ; the clouds formed a thick curtain
overhead ; the surface of the ground appeared as an immense obscure
plain shaded with various dark tints. The only noise we could
perceive was the constant croaking of thousands of frogs, and their
concert lasted the whole night long, interrupted only now and then
by intervals of silence or by the barking of watchdogs. The frogs
indicated peat bogs and morasses, the dogs were evidence of villages ;
absolute silence told us we were passing over hills or forests.
About midnight we perceived tires here and there beneath us : they
were those of the charcoal burners in the woods. These fires, seen
from a distance, were like lighthouses, and the loud croaking of the
frogs resembled most perfectly the distant roar of the sea. As we were
certainly in the centre of France, we had no cause to fear the proximity
of the ocean, besides which the compass marked our course as south-
x 2
180 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
south-west. Since I made this journey, however, it has struck me
that had we travelled in a current twice as rapid as that which carried
us along, and had deviated somewhat to the west, we shoidd most
certainly have passed on to La Rochelle before daybreak.
A flash of lightning shot across the distant heavens ; and the bulletin
of the Paris Observatory for that day informs us that we narrowly
escaped being swept along towards a violent tempest which rose from
the Gulf of Gascony.
From time to time we heard the mournful sound of waterfalls ; then
silence intervened again, to be broken only by the harsh concert of
the marshes.
A loud noise, which we supposed at first to be that of a railway
train, reached our ears at half-past one : it proved to be caused by
the flow of the river Creuse, which we passed over at Blanc, between
Poitiers and Chateauroux.
All these various noises, which rose from the dark earth through
the stillness of the night, were singularly intense, and astonished me
not a little whilst investigating the transmission of sound through the
atmosphere. Is it the universal silence which causes our ears to be
more attentive? In my former excursions I had already noticed that
sound is more easily transmitted from below upwards than in any
other direction. I had connected with this the fact that at night the
temperature of the atmosphere is more uniform, and consequently
sound does not meet so many obstacles on its passage through it as it
must do during the daytime, when it has to contend with a thousand
various degrees of reflection and refraction whilst passing through the
different strata.
Whilst referring to my notes of this journey, I recollect that the
celebrated Von Humboldt made a similar observation on the borders
of the Orinoco. He tells us that from a certain position on the
plain of Antura the noise of the great waterfall on that river resemhles
the tumult of waves dashing upon a rocky shore; and he adds, as a
remarkable circumstance, that the sound is much louder at night than
in the daytime. This difference cannot be accounted for by the still-
ness of the night, for the humming of insects and the roaring of wild
beasts render the night in those regions of the globe far more noisy
than the day. Humboldt proposes the following explanation of it.
Between the cascade and the position of the observer spreads a wide
plain, the green surface of which has scattered over it a quantity of
naked rocks : now, these rocks acquire, when under the influence of
the sun's rays, a temperature that is considerably higher than that of
the grass around ; consequently a column of warm and light air rises
FROM PARIS TO ANGOULE.UE. 18:3
above each of them. Hence it follows that in the daytime the sound
of the waterfall has to pass through the layers of air, of very variable
densities; and as each of the surfaces which limit these masses of air,
whether they be denser or lighter masses, gives rise to an echo, the
sound as it proceeds is necessarily weakened. During the night these
variable temperatures cease to exist, and the rays of sound, propagated
through a more homogeneous atmosphere, reach the ear without being
diminished in intensity by a series of reflections. In optics we meet
with an analogous phenomenon : light undergoes reflection when it
meets the surface which separates two media of different densities, so
that a succession of such media, though cpiite transparent, may become
an obstacle to the penetration of light in consequence of the repeated
reflection which it has to undergo along its course.
The monotonous croaking of the frogs ceases at two o'clock in the
morning, and a few instants later the cocks crow in the various
villages. It is still dark ; but the familiar crowing of the cock is an
agreeable sound after four hours of darkness and vague murmurs.
At 2h. 16m. we cross the Gartempe, near to Montmorillon. The
sky is more overcast than ever. Dawn is not even perceptible yet,
and spreads no luminosity through the air. At 3h. 10m. we cross the
Vienne between Confolens and Chabannais, and we follow the course
of the stream for some time. We distinguish a minute town, with a
solitary oil lamp in the middle of it : it is Chabannais.
From midnight the balloon gradually sank from .'',280 feet to 2,625
at one o'clock, 1,640 at two o'clock, and 1,970 at half-past two. It
had become heavier by the dew condensed upon it; the hygrometer
oscillated around 93, and increased its indications after two o'clock.
The thermometer marks 60o,8 Fahr. This rather high temperature
must be attributed to the cloud covering above, which intercepts the
radiation from the earth.
Jupiter and the moon are seen through an opening in the clouds ;
the light of the latter has come, now that we can almost do without
it. This is the first time that I can see to write since ten o'clock
last night.
The birds begin to sing at three o'clock, and daybreak dawns slowly
upon us. Nature is rather late this morning. Nevertheless the
inhabitants are early risers in these districts; already we can dis-
tinguish many figures along the roads. We are only 1,970 feet high,
and we endeavour to hail them by means of our speaking trumpet,
and inquire the name of their province. But all the reply we get
is some words ending in guar, which we fail to understand. At last
we make out that we are at Confolens, in Charente.
184 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
We have stepped over the mountain chain of Limousin, at its
northern point, by means of the greater part of the ballast we had at
our disposal, and the balloon now soars at an elevation of 3,940 feet.
The beauty of the panorama spread out beneath us invites us to
descend before the wind rises, so we pull the valve-rope for the first
time at four o'clock, and sink to 1,640 feet ; then again, and we are
within 330 feet of the ground.
As we descend, the thermometer marks successively 60o-8, 59°, and
57°"2, showing that at this hour the air is colder in the valleys than
on the plateaux. Whilst passing over a magnificent plain, slightly
undulated, we got a glimpse of the towers of the old Chateau of
Larochefoucault, A little lane between the cornfields and the vines
wound along in our direction. We sank slowly down like a lazy bird ;
and it was not without a feeling of satisfaction that we breathed into
our lungs the perfumed air of this wild country so far from Paris.
Godard was known at Larochefoucault from rather a singular
adventure he had there. One day a balloon belonging to his brother
fell near that town, but there was no aeronaut in the car ; and on the
seat a coat spotted with blood was found. M. Jules Godard had left
Eochefort during a storm, and was obliged to descend immediately ;
but his balloon escaped by the force of the wind just as he was
preparing to anchor it firmly, and he cut his hand accidentally with
a knife just as this occurred, causing a few drops of blood to fall
upon his coat. The Mayor of Kochefort instantly telegraphed to the
different towns of the district, to know which of them had noticed
the balloon ; and I have before me the telegram in which the Mayor
of Larochefoucault announced the dramatic arrival of the solitary
balloon in his neighbourhood.
After we had admired the venerable ducal chateau, we started
for Angouleme in a carriage drawn by a pair of beautiful horses ;
their course was less rapid but more certain than that of the balloon.
At Piouelle we paid a visit to the Imperial foundries, where two large
cannon of twenty tons weight were being made for the Exposition.
In the evening the bonfires in honour of the feast of St. John were
lighted all round Angouleme, and men and women were dancing
before them and jumping over them almost all night. Among the
recollections of Angouleme which I carried back with me, I may
mention the irregular arches of the cathedral, the square tower, and
the masonic lodge. But I can never forget being carried, standing
upright, upon a single sheet of paper, at the well-known manufactory
of Messrs. Lacroix Brothers.
The train which leaves Angouleme at four in the morning only
FROM PARIS TO AXGOULEMK.
18:
arrives at Paris at eight o'clock iu the evening ; but we had come
from Paris in the balloon in eleven hours and a half.
Our aerostatic course measured about 300 miles, which distance
was accomplished between 4h. 45m. in the evening and 4h. 20m. of
the next morning, or in eleven hours and twenty-live minutes : it is
nearly thirty miles an hour (without stations on the road) on the
average.
By referring to a plan of this journey I find that the greatest
velocity was attained between 5h. 15m. and 6h. 45m. in the evening,
precisely corresponding to the greatest height which we reached : and
the line on the map which indicates the course which we followed is
slightly curved ; it forms an arc of a large circle. I have noticed this
in other aerial excursions, and it naturally leads me to believe that
currents of air do not perhaps travel through the atmosphere in
absolutely straight lines, but that their course is always somewhat
bent from left to light.
Had I been alone I would willingly have continued my journey on
to Bordeaux and to the seaside, but my prudent pilot was afraid
of the wind. And he was quite right, for half an hour after we had
landed a violent gale sprang up and obliged us to let all the gas out
of the balloon, contrary to our projects.
This long excursion was devoted principally to the investigation of
the nature and physical constitution of clouds.
THE CHATEAU OF I.ABOCHEFOCCACLT.
Yorii PASSPORTS, f.KNTr.F.MKN '. "
chapter vii.
A s C E X T -V T SCXSE T.
Some time after my aerial trip from Paris to Angoulcme, I made a
short excursion through the atmosphere over the heautiful valley of
the Seine, to the west of Paris. It was merely a promenade at a very
low altitude, made with the ohject of studying the indications of the
hygrometer, or the distribution of moisture in these lower regions.
The sky was very fine, and the air calm ; a very mild breeze, only,
moved from the east-south-east, tepid and slow, like that winch arises
on the sea-shore as evening approaches. My aerial pilot on this
occasion was, as usual, M. Eugene Godard, and we had offered a seat
in the car to M. Victor Meunicr, the editor of a scientific periodical.
The balloon rose slowly from the west of the capital, as if carried up
by some invisible hand. As we leave the earth, the Arc de l'Etoile is
the first and last object which we see lit up by the golden rays of
evening, whilst the city itself is hidden in the folds of a foggy atmo-
sphere. From over the rond-point of Courbevoie we distinguish the
statue of Napoleon, which is exactly beneath us, a quarter of an hour
after our departure. As seen from above, it is rather difficult to
recognize the Emperor; for perspective, like judgment, is singularly
modified as the eye rises above the common level of men and things.
We are carried to the north-west of Paris, passing over Nanterre,
Carrieres-Saint-Denis, and Montesson ; then our course inclines more
ASCENT AT SUNSET. 1ST
to the north, and we come over the wood of St. Germain at Car-
rieres-sous-Bois. "We cross the Seine at Champ-Fleury and at Triel,
follow its course to Vaux, and after passing (without any fatigue) over
the rough hills of Evequemont, we descend at Meulan. In this route
of two hours at most, we have crossed the Seine no less than six
times. Paris is still visible in the distance, and whilst over the wood
of St. Germain we can distinguish very perfectly the form of the
obelisk rising like a white needle against the green background of
the Tuileries.
Our hygrometer, which marked 78 on the ground when we started,
and 77 when we landed, was constantly between 50 and 54 on the
journey. It fell to 56, 58, and 60 as we approached the hills which
lie along the river Seine. Our height was never over 2,300 feet.
About 6h. 45m. the shadow of the balloon became white, as I had
previously noticed in our morning ascent over the Loire. On examin-
ing attentively the conditions of this phenomenon, I found that it is
really due to the reflection of the solar rays from the dew-drops on
the grass of the fields or the leaves of the trees, and that this occurs
either in the morning or in the evening. When the motion of the
balloon carried its shadow over the Seine, the latter became quite
invisible. On the wood of St. Germain it appeared as an immense
white aureola, the centre of which was occupied by a dark circle.
I have received several curious letters with respect to this shadow,
one of which, from a medical gentleman of St. Hermine, and another
from a gardener of Frontenay-Bohan, attribute the phenomenon,
rightly, to the dampness of the soil. The latter stated that if I had
ever walked early in the morning over the ground covered with
dew, I coidd scarcely have failed to observe the shadow of my head
surrounded by sacred glory ; and added, that as I had not taken holy
orders, and was not very likely to do so, it was probable that,
instead of seeking for an explanation of the fact in the " Lives of the
Saints," I should look upon it as a purely natural phenomenon.
As we come near to the ground in making our descent, the aureola
in question disappears, and is replaced by the opaque shadow of the
balloon, which increases progressively in size, and approaches nearer
to the vertical line which may be supposed to join our car to the
earth. As the sun never attains to the zenith in these latitudes, and
is most frequently at its average or mean height either before or after
noon, the distance of the shadow of the balloon from the said vertical
might, had we no better method, give us a rough indication of our
height above the ground. The shadow comes in contact with us as
we touch the soil. By observing the course of the shadow, some
188 TEA VELS IN THE A IE.
indication of the direction taken by the balloon may, in certain
circumstances, be gained ; but it is preferable to take this direc-
tion by observing the country directly underneath the car of the
balloon.
As we approached the Seine, we sank obliquely for the space of ten
minutes ; the bright sun was reflected vividly in the water, and whilst
passing over the river we leaned out of the car to witness the reflec-
tion of our own image; we had the satisfaction of seeing our red and
distorted features pass slowly across the limpid mirror.
My friends have often asked me how we find out where we are at
any moment during a balloon excursion. This is not very difficult.
In a few minutes after we have left the earth, we see in what direction
the wind carries us. After we have passed over the fortifications we
see our route before us. and having with us an excellent map of the
neighbourhood of Paris, we note the precise moment at which we pass
over any striking object, such as a town, a road, a river, &c. When
we get beyond the limits of the map of the Paris district, we take up
one of the province over which we glide, or even a tolerably detailed
map of France, and dotting each spot as we pass over it, we trace our
route upon this map. Beyond the limits of the French Empire we
could employ a map of Europe in the same manner ; so that we
always know where we are, where we are going, and with what
velocity we proceed.
"When clouds exist between us and the earth, the reconnoitring is
a less easy task ; we then judge from the last visible point which we
noted, whereabouts we should be.
After having crossed the Seine we glided along at a very slight dis-
tance above the ground, and whilst I was noting down the indications
of the hygrometer we were suddenly saluted from below with the
words, " Your passports, gentlemen ! " Who could send us such an
extraordinary demand at this moment ? The reader will already have
queried — perhaps he has already hummed the air : — -
" Deux gendarmes un beau dimanche
Chevauchaient le long d'un sentier."
For they were two gendarmes galloping along the road to St. Germain.
As there was a very good reason for our not throwing down our
passports to them, Godrird begged them to step up and verify them,
emptying out a bag of ballast as he did so. The two police agents, as
they continued their journey, doubtless meditated upon the modifica-
tions that would have to be introduced into the institution of the
mounted police force as aerial navigation comes more into vogue.
;-'■ I 7.iilli,,''|1iill|"'
h,
'■'■■■'V "l!:,;l ' '
iftiiil
f Mi & ii 1 1 : « 1 1 flli
it y
ASCENT AT SUNSET. 191
Whilst we passed over the Seine at Treil and St. Nicaise, we
repeated our experiments on the echo, and again observed how purely
the sound of our voices was reverberated from the limpid stream,
whilst the soil retained it and remained silent. As we passed over
Vaux and other villages, the cries of" Eh ! Flammarion ! " told us that
we were not exactly in a strange land.
We floated on at about 100 yards from the ground ; our balloon did
not adhere to the course of the stream, but stepped buoyantly over the
hilly ground which borders it. We chose for our descent the pic-
turesque route leading to Meulan, and, as Godard opened the valve,
the people flocked out to meet us in great numbers. But it so
happened that a breeze blew towards the town and carried us at once
to its outskirts, whilst hundreds of voices proclaimed our arrival.
An incident that might have proved rather serious brought this
excursion to an end. At the entrance to the town the inhabitants
requested that they might pull us along to the central square. But to
do this we had to be drawn over the wires to which the lamps hung
across the streets. The first was passed without much difficulty, but
on arriving at the second the narrowness of the street proved a serious
obstacle to our passage. One of the cords rubbed along the front of a
house from the windows of which many inquisitive heads were peering,
and our car struck violently against a chimney. Some confusion
arose, our orders were not punctually executed, and by some mistake
the only cord by which the balloon was held down at this moment
was let go. Tims suddenly delivered, we rose immediately over the
town, to the great disappointment of the crowd, and were carried
rapidly towards the Seine.
We managed, however, to descend on the opposite bank, in front
of the Ilc-Bclle, in a beautiful meadow, where the entire population
came out to meet us, and finally conducted us in a procession to
Mureaux, where some gay and noisy festivities were going on.
The next day a long discussion ensued on the various methods of
aerial locomotion — the means by which a balloon's course might be
governed, the knowledge of atmospheric currents, flying by means of
apparatus heavier than air, &c, and I was requested to give some
account of the various opinions on these subjects ; and to reply, if
possible, to the question : A bird flies ; will it never be jwssible for
man to fly also ? As this excursion has been a short one, I may
append to it some account of the results of the discussion on
'these topics.
From the most remote peiiod of antiquity men have made attempts,
or have dreamt of doing so, to rise up into the air and to ily. Several
192 TRAVELS IN THE A IE.
persons have actually flown, but only over a slight space of ground, and
generally by springing from a high place to the earth ; the wings which
they put on only served to support them a little, and to cause them to
fall less abruptly and more or less in a horizontal line.
Up to the present day no one has been able to fly like a bird ; that
is, by springing from the ground and rising upwards. The attempts
to which we allude have ceased ; they were eclipsed by the brilliant
discovery of aerostation, which furnished to man a new and unexpected
method of rising into the air ; and research was at once carried off in
another direction — it was sought to govern and direct the motion of
balloons, so as to travel as easily by their means above the ground as
we do in the present state of things upon its surface.
The various trials that, have been made, both in theory and practice,
to direct the motion of balloons, have not hitherto been more fortunate
than the attempts at flying just alluded to. A third method of aerial
navigation has been brought forward in recent times, which is based
upon mechanical considerations. It has been sought to navigate the
atmosphere by means of machines essentially distinct in principle from
balloons, heavier than the volume of air which they displace, and set
in motion by powerful engines. This is doubtless the direction in
which we must look for the future solution of the problem under
consideration, unless, indeed, our knowledge of the currents of the at-
mosphere increases to such an extent as to render aerostatic navigation
possible by their means.
A winged man, or a flying machine, will always be something
heavier than its own volume of air. Let us, then, examine the
mechanics of the flight of birds.
By what means does a bird rise into the air and direct its motion
to any given point at will ? Let us consider it fixed upon the ground
and just about to fly off. The first motion is a slight spring whilst
the wings spread out and embrace the air, and with a few flaps it flies
off. The first start is assisted, no doubt, by the action of the bird's feet
upon the ground and the striking of the air by the wings. If it
happened that, when started in this manner, it could not bring its
wings to act again upon the elastic air and so continue its flight
upwards, the bird would fall to the ground at a very short distance
from the spot whence it rose. As it is, the normal velocity of its
flight is gradually acquired just as the region in which it is effected
is attained.
How is this easy mode of translation through the air obtained ?
By the construction of the wing, which, being articulated to the
fore part of the bird's body, may be compared to a lever in which the
ASCENT AT SUNSET. 193
fulcrum is placed between the power and the resistance, but five,
seven, or ten times nearer to the point of resistance than to the
opposite point. By bearing periodically upon the air by the external
portion of its wings, the bird proceeds on its flight in proportion to
the effort made. The motive power of birds is that of all animated
beings ; the will in the first instance, and the connection of the
muscular system with the nervous system and the brain, which is the
seat of the will.
By the aid of science, man has supplied the place of the will
by a mechanical power ; locomotives and ships are moved by the
regulated action of steam. The telegraph needle moves by the
application of electricity. It is by the direct use of a similar agent
that a machine will some day be caused to fly through the air.
In order to fly himself, man would have to make use of large
wings which would require to be both very strong and very light.
They would have to extend along the whole sides of the body, down
to the ankles, and to be moved by the arms, at the extremities of
which they would have their maximum breadth. It would be
necessary also to ballast the body so as to ensure a horizontal position
or to enable such a position to be taken when needed. All these
precautions having been attended to, the winged man would weigh,
I should imagine, about 250 lbs., and he must be endowed with
enormous strength in order to make his way through the air by the
action of the anterior rib of his wings. If such flying man had the
strength necessary to flap the air with his wings four times per second,
each flap raising him an inch and a quarter, he would possess the
faculty of flight. But it happens that such a thing does not appear-
to be possible.
MM. Ponton d'Amecourt and Landelle have, by means of an inge-
nious spring apparatus, caused certain light substances to rise and
remain in the air at a slight height as long as the action of the springs
continued. We should have to substitute the weight of a man for
that of these light substances, and the power of steam or electricity
for that of the springs.
The greater the weight of an animal, the less, proportionally, is the
spread of wing necessary to sustain it in the air, though the rapidity
of the motion of the wings diminishes with the weight of the animal.
A gnat expends in flying much more force, proportionally, than an
eagle. If a man construct an apparatus for flying, he soon finds that
the force to be expended decreases in proportion to the size of the
apparatus.
In most insects the motion of the wings is so rapid as to be quite
o
1*1-1= TEA VELS IN THE AIE.
invisible. M. Marey has recently endeavoured to represent the
form and the velocity of these motions. In order to determine the
frequency of the beats, an acoustic method may be made use of, which
enables us to judge, by the sound produced during flight, of the
rapidity of the vibration. Most insects produce whilst flying a more
or less acute buzzing sound, the pitch of which may be ascertained
by means of any musical instrument, and this should, it seems, give
us the number of beats of the wing per second. A more efficacious,
though somewhat cruel method, consists in sticking the insect to a
cork, and allowing the extremity of the wing to strike against the
smoked surface of a revolving cylinder. By comparing the trace
thus produced to that given in the same circumstances by the vibra-
tions of a tuning-fork, the note of which is known, the exact number
of beats per second may be obtained. This number is 330 for the
common house-fly, 290 for the bee, 140 for the wasp, 70 for the common
moth (Sphinx vespcrtilio), 28 for the dragon-fly, and about 8 for the
common butterfly. These numbers represent the double vibration,
i. e. the rise and fall of wing reckoned as one beat.
With regard to the flight of birds, M. Liais, formerly of the Paris
Observatory, is of opinion that the wing meets with no resistance as
it rises. As the bird lowers it, the wing is rather bent backwards, so
that the resistance of the atmosphere to the progressive motion tends
to support the bird in the air : when the flapping of the wing com-
mences, the latter is not brought down parallel to itself, but lowered,
more especially at its anterior border ; it is then soon carried back-
wards, so as to accelerate the progress forward and counterbalance the
effect of gravitation at the same time. Towards the end of the motion
the hind part of the wing comes promptly forward with an increased
velocity, and arrives a little below the anterior portion, as immediately
before the beat. It results from this, that as the wing is lowered the
whole force developed is employed to counterbalance gravitation,
whilst the middle portion of the movement is devoted also to increase
the horizontal motion of the bird.
Whilst the wing rises it constantly preserves the inclined position
towards the hind part of the bird which it has acquired ; and if we
take into account the horizontal progress made whilst the wing rises,
it is easy to perceive that the latter experiences resistance only on its
narrow edge. In the flight of birds and other flying animals the
phenomenon of reaction overcomes the various resistances. Thrusting
downwards a certain volume of air by means of its wings, the body
of a bird acquires a certain rebound, such as we observe in a piece of
cannon when fired, or a sky-rocket.
ASCENT AT SUNSET. 19;
Some mathematicians, in en leavouring to ascertain the amount of
work done in the act of Hying, have effected their calculations on an
erroneous basis, and have found, amongst other absurdities, that a bird
the size of a goose must, in order to support itself in the air, execute
work equivalent to that of two horses ; when we all know that the
strength of a child is sufficient to stop the motion of the wings in
a bird of this size. No doubt animals that fly have very powerful
muscles for moving the wings from above downwards, but that does
not prove that a great amount of work is necessary to support them
in the air. These muscles are powerful because they must be capable
of providing a sudden effort, but they are not required to repeat it
continually. After every development of force comes a long period of
repose, so thit the total amount of work done is exceedingly small.
The muscles which raise the wing are, on the contrary, very weak,
because it rises slowly and in the circumstances alluded to above.
Iustead of calculating the quantity of work done, it is preferable
to measure it as M. Liais has done, by taking the weight of several
kinds of birds, measuring the surface of their wings, the velocity of
progression, &c. The general result of this research has been to show
that the quantity of work necessary for flight is represented per
second by less than one-third of the weight of the bird or other
animal raised to the height of one yard, and that the ratio of the
weight of the bird to the surface of the wings increases with the
span of the latter. The last fact shows that the larger the animal
the easier is its flight when once in the air, but small birds rise easier
from the ground than large ones.
To rise from the ground, a bird must spring. Now, as their strength
is nearly proportionate to their size, and as the quantity of work
necessary to accomplish a bound of a given height is also propor-
tionate to the weight, it follows that all birds, whatever their size,
spring nearly to the same height. But the extent of spring accom-
plished by the smaller species is sufficient to enable them to flap their
wings without bringing them into contact with the ground : this is
not the case with larger birds, such as the eagle or the albatross, and
the latter are obliged to run for some distance along the ground before
they can rise. "When they have thus acquired a certain amount of
horizontal velocity, they suddenly open their wings as if to soar, and
the extended surface tends to counterbalance the effects of gravitation.
It is at this moment that they spring, and rise at once to a sufficient
height to flap their wings. Many large birds, such as the eagle and
the condor, generally avoid settling on the ground, and remain perched
on high rocks, from whence they can easily soar into space.
o 2
196
TRAVELS TX THE ALE.
The conclusion of this dissertation may, then, be summed up by
stating, that men will some day or other fly through the air, not by
means of their own physical strength, but by means of some winged
apparatus (or helices) set in motion by some powerful physical agency
'such as steam or electricity. la the meantime let us continue the
narration of our balloon excursions, and relate our aerial journey
into Prussia.
THE STATUE OF NAPOLEON AS SEEN FIHOI us nn.ii.
BAIN IN Til! HK.HKi: RKGIOKS
CHAPTEE VII).
FROM PARIS INTO PRUSSIA., BY ROCROI, AIX-LA-CHAPELLE, ANR
COLOGNE.
Those sciences which depend solely upon observation can make but
slow progress. Meteorology, more especially, is a long and compli-
cated study, the elements of which are far apart and transitory.
Those who suppose that an hour's observation is sufficient to enable
them to become acquainted with the principal phenomena of the
atmosphere, evince little knowledge of scientific methods. Days,
weeks, and even months may elapse before the most attentive ob-
M'l'ver is rewarded by an insight into the laws of the phenomena
which he subjects to investigation.
The ascents described in the preceding pages were very different
from each other, inasmuch as they are each characterized by a par-
ticular state of the weather. The present one, made on the 14th July,
will be found also to differ essentially from all the others. The sky
had been rainy during the forepart of the day ; our balloon itself had
been wet by a shower from two to three o'clock, and rain fell upon it
again at a quarter past four. We started at oh. 22m., the weather
being very cloudy after a thunder shower, and with a fine breeze
blowing.
I'M: TEA VELS IX THE AIR.
We passed perpendicularly over the Arc de l'Etoile, and in less
than live minutes soared over the country of Montmartre. We are
already 2,461 feet high. We have left St. Denis to the left, and we
perceive a light cloud hanging over Paris, but not reaching to the
ground. This time it is not a vast body of dust that we see suspended
over the capital, but a real cloud. Soon the great city disappears
from our gaze, so rapid has been our departure. The high tower of
the stately church of St. Denis, the last resting-place of French kings,
which Louis XIV. gazed at from the tower of St. Germain, also flies
away from us with astonishing rapidity.
To our left we noticed the village of Gonesse. Here it was that the
first balloon fell, which left Paris from the Champ de Mars on the
27th August, 1783. Nothing in the shape of a living being occupied
the ear of this balloon, which was inflated in the workshop of the
brothers Robert, in the Place des Victoires, under the superintendence
of Professor Charles. It had been brought through Paris by night,
and reached the Champ de Mars by torchlight, much to the astonish-
ment of the people, who had never witnessed such a spectacle before.
We have already alluded to this ascent. When the aerial globe had
risen to a great height, the envelope burst and the gas escaped. The
balloon then came down very rapidly, and fell at Gonesse, striking-
terror among the inhabitants of this quiet village.
They ran in a crowd towards the monster, and two monks having
asserted that the skin was that of some fabulous animal, stones were
thrown at it and pitchforks stuck into it by the peasants. It is even
said that the curate of Uonesse determined to exorcise the wonderful
beast, and a procession of country folk marched out towards it. Taking
a most circuitous route, and muttering many prayers, they at last cam.;
near the spot where lay the semi-globe, vibrating and shuddering with
the slightest breath of wind. But they approached it very slowly, in
the hopes that it would fly off again .... At last the bravest among
them, whose name history has not brought down to us, fired a gun at
it. The charge of shot, tearing the envelope still more, caused the
remainder of the gas to issue and the balloon to flatten down com-
pletely. At this moment every one rushed forward to give the terrible
monster the coup de grdce, but the stench of the gas which issued from
the wound caused the most enthusiastic to fly back again. Finally
the palpitating remains of the victim were fastened to the tail of a
horse, and dragged five hundred yards across the fields.
The next day the Government, in order to prevent a repetition
of such scenes, published a " Notice to the public on the ascent of
balloons into the air," in which it was explained that they are not
fROM PARIS INTO PRUSSIA. 199
wild beasts, but merely globes of silk inflated with gas, which is lighter
than air, and that it is necessary to study their movements in the
hopes of rendering them useful to society.
Whenever we pass over a village the geese invariably cackle
and the dogs bark; no bird ever approaches the balloon in the air.
There can be little doubt, therefore, that our aerial machine either
frightens or astonishes every living being.
We glide on in a north-easterly direction between two zones of rain,
one to the right of us and the other to the left. The rain which falls
in the sunshine forms an oblique white trace in front of the darker-
coloured clouds which form the background ; whilst that which falls
in the. shade is seen as grey lines upon a background of whitish
cloud beyond. Drawings of the rain-clouds and the oblique rain are
easily executed ; for these clouds are above us, travelling more rapidly
than we do, and in the same direction.
The humidity of the air, which diminished at the commencement
of our ascent, now increases gradually : we had 71 on the ground
before starting, 67 at 5h. 27m. at 1,640 feet of elevation ; and 66 at
oh. 40m. at 1,960 feet. At 6h. 22m. it was 77 at 1,345 feet ; then de-
creased to 73 at 2,133 feet, and 70 at 2,690 feet, which occurred at
6h. 35m. The thermometer, which indicated 71°'6 Fahr. on the ground
before we started, gradually sank to 59°.
At 6h. 15m. we are over Thieux ; six minutes later we cross the
railway at the Maras station, and we leave Dammartin to the left. As
we pass, soon after, over Noefort, I notice on the map, as lying to our
left hand, the names of places which should recall a terrestrial para-
dise— " Eve," " Eve's Mount," " The Bridge of Eve." They may be very
pretty places, but we cannot stop ; already we can perceive the town
of Laon on its high plateau ; it is not upon our horizon, but stands out
in black upon the grey background of the immense plain beyond.
Laon is forty-eight miles from here.
Rain is falling all along the north and north-west region, and we
have not had a glimpse of the sun since we started. This, on the
whole, is fortunate, for if by the heat of the solar rays the balloon were
to be much dilated, the rain, which threatens us and will probably
reach us before long, would doubtless bring our projected journey to
an abrupt termination during the night.
After sailing from 5h. 40m. till 6h. 30m. at a height of 2,460 feet,
we lighten our weight by throwing out a few pounds of ballast, and
rise to 4,265 feet.
We now enter the Departemente de lAisne, and can perceive the
boundaries of the forest of Villers-Cotterets. From time to time a
200 TEA VELB IN THE AIR.
gun is tired at us ; we trust it is merely intended as a salute. The
smoke of the discharge blows away to the north ; there exists, there-
tore, an oblique current below us on the earth's surface. I have rarely
observed any difference of currents except over the undulated country
of tire Loire Inferieure. Over a flat country I had not before noticed
the fact.
A curious meteorological phenomenon was observed on the forest.
For some time past we had noticed small light clouds situated far
below us, suspended as it were over the summits of the trees, and
perfectly still. "When we came over the largest of them we found that
it was a cloud situated some 200 to 300 feet above a pond. It was
completely isolated, and might have been some 330 feet wide and 70
feet thick ; but what struck us most was its absolute stillness. Was
there no breeze blowing along the ground ? or did the wind take the
form of a cloud as it passed over the pond of water ? This we were
not able to decide.1 Other small clouds were seen in like manner along
the course of a rivulet. It is difficult to believe that whilst we
were progressing at the rate of 36 feet per second, at an elevation of
only 1,040 feet, there could be no breeze whatever along the surface
of the ground.
The humidity of the air has varied in a very complicated manner.
At seven o'clock the hygrometer marked 80, at a height of 2,090 feet ;
at 7h. 10m., 85 at 2,428 feet ; at 7h. 30m., whilst over the forest, 'JO
at 1,040 feet; and at 7h. 43m., at a height of 2,953 feet, we had 85.
The thermometrical indications are more regular : we had 50° Fahr. at
3,084 feet; 53°-G at 2,401 feet; and 59° at 1,470 feet.
We sail between distant zones of vain. The smoke which precedes
the rain is driven with great force in the direction of the rain itself :
it is the only forerunner which occupies the space between the clouds
and the earth. The smoke, which is nearer to vis, and alongside of the
rainy zone, seems to be attracted to this zone, and forms a right angle
with the former.
At eight o'clock the sky presented a magnificent spectacle. The
sun, hidden by the higher clouds, lit ixp the rain, making it appear
like molten metal. It had something of the appearance of an immense
Bengal light burning on the ground and rising directly behind the
clouds above. In a few moments the whole of Nature was illuminated
ami vigorously coloured by this curious glare. The summits of the
1 This phenomenon is probably analogous to that of a cloud suspended in the
air or resting on the top of a hill, when the wind is blowing strongly. The
cloud appears stationary, hut its particles are undergoing constant change and
renewal. — Ed.
FROM PARIS INTO PRUSSIA. 201
distant hills, and the clouds above, were alike tinted with the
red light.
In a short time the sun burst forth like an enormous sphere of
red-hot metal, between two lines of ruddy clouds. But at ten minutes
past eight we had lost sight of the orb of day, and continued our
journey in the twilight.
Whilst partaking of our dinner we made an experiment, which
consisted in filling a tumbler with water to the very edge of the glass,
so that it would have been impossible to add another drop of liquid
without causing it to flow over the sides. We wished to see whether
the oscillations or any other motion of the balloon would cause the
tumbler to overflow. Nothing of the kind occurred, though our aerial
sphere was travelling with the rapidity of a locomotive, and with
vertical undulations of several hundred yards ; not a drop of water
left the edge of the glass.
Another mechanical experiment was made in the evening, and
renewed next day. I wished to verify Galileo's principle of the
independence of simultaneous motions. According to this principle,
a body which is allowed to fall from another body in motion partici-
pates in the motion of the latter ; thus, if we drop a marble from the
masthead of a ship, it preserves during its fall the rate of motion of
the vessel, and falls at the foot of the mast, as if the ship were still.
Now, if a body falls from a balloon, does it also follow the motion of
the latter, or does it fall directly to the earth in a line which is per-
pendicular to the point at which we let it go ? In the first case, its
fall would be described by an oblique line. The latter was found to
be the fact, as we proved by letting a bottle fall. During its descent
it partakes of the balloon's motion, and, until it reaches the earth, is
always seen perpendicularly beneath the car.
In falling, the bottle produced a very loud hissing noise, owing to
the resistance of the air, and similar to the noise made by a musket
ball when it passes violently through a layer of water. AYe were not
aide to follow the bottle until it reached the earth, for the white
paper in which we had enveloped it was torn away from it in its
rapid descent.
About nine o'clock night succeeded to the twilight. The black
clouds which had followed us since our departure now overtook us,
and the sky, which below us had been hitherto inoffensive enough,
now begins to till with the threatening mists. The moon, which
should have risen at six o'clock, has not yet shown her pale face ;
on the contrary, the sky has become blacker than ever. Suddenly
we find ourselves enveloped in darkness. We had hoped all along
202 TRA VKLS IX THE All!
that our ptogress would have been more rapid than that of the
clouds, and that we should have outstripped the storm.
At Oh. 15m. thunder. At 9h. 20m. the heavy rain falls with a
crackling noise upon the balloon. As there is now no doubt whatever
that the storm has overtaken us, we decide upon doing what appears
best (and what can ouly be done in a balloon), namely, to rise above the
clouds which are drenching us with rain. My pilot, having arranged
everything in case we should be obliged to make a rapid descent,
throws out one measure of ballast, and we rise through the rain-cloud
to a height of 3,937 feet. But it seems that this is not sufficient!
The cloud comes again upon us. We throw out more ballast, pound
after pound, and rise to f>,.~>78 feet, and here we are quite free from
the troublesome weather, indeed, it is quite essential not to get wet,
if we are to make a long journey. In such circumstances the balloon
might, in the course of a few minutes, collect enough water to weigh
it down and cause it to sink to the ground, which would be a very
disagreeable occurrence in the middle of a dark stormy night. When
we got above the stonm7 nimbus, we heard the rain falling under-
neath us for at least half an hour.
The rain has ceased, and the country is now visible beneath us.
And what is this brilliant light and that noisy festivity which we per-
ceive down below, whilst the sounds of an orchestra playing dance-
music reach our ears? It must be a very large room, and is probably
some public ball — they appear to be amusing themselves.
We have just passed over the little town of Sissonne. We must have
passed Laon on our left during the rain. At present we are making
for the Ardennes. Will not its high plateau covered with woods, and
its chains of hills, reach up to our balloon? No, we shall bound over
them with some five or six hundred yards to spare.
It is now eleven o'clock, and our height is 5,247 feet. The ther-
mometer marks 50° Fahr. and the hygrometer 03. We have passed
over woods and mountains. The moon, which had "eaten up the clouds,"
is again hidden behind a thick veil, and rain appears to be falling
once more to the east of us. We are still plunged in absolute silence,
and in the midst of this solitude we feel we are the only living
beings who are at this moment passing through the regions of night
and sleep.
1'mt what is that stony star just below us, shining amidst the dark
foliage of the earth ? Is it a fortress on the frontier ? Is it a town
surrounded by bastions and ramparts? We pass perpendicularly over
it, but cannot distinguish the vestige of a light. Nevertheless, we see
long rows of houses inside the fortifications, and large squares evidently
■
m
■
■As
I
ill
I *
! : !^ '*' !:■:!' ■:■
F1WM I' A HIS IX TO PRUSSIA.
205
intended for exercising troops. It is Rocroi. We shout to the
custom-house officers, hut in vain. At the height at winch we are
sailing, what voice, were it equal to that of Lablache himself, could
reach down to the earth \ Carried along by the wind, we have passed
the frontiers, which have no existence for us, and we now soar over
Belgium.
The moon at last shines forth. Small light clouds fly from time to
time before its disc, but do not intercept its silver rays. Around the
moon a curious aureola is vaguely seen, and very soon a magnificent
lunar rainbow spreads itself out above the lower disc. We can only
distinguish three colours in it — red, green, and violet; and even these
are only faintly visible. An instant later, instead of being above the
moon, the semicircle is seen below it. It is a lunar halo, an optical
effect well described by Arago in vol. xi. of his " CEuvres," and must
not lie mistaken for the phenomenon known as a " lunar rainbow."
G] LNCE IMi SPACE BELOW, \T M..III
THE RANKS (IF T1IF. KBUSB.
('•HATTER TX.
from taris into PRUSSIA (continued).
It is now midnight. We are the only aerial travellers plunged in the.
depths of space, and surrounded by silence, solitude, and darkness.
Our conversation alone breaks the monotony of this dreary region,
and the sound of our voices in these dark heights seems something
derogatory to the Taws which govern the world. The grey clouds roll
along the immense vault, and fly, like armies of light phantoms, into
the depths of the night. After a while the silver rays of the moon
gleam forth, and their soft light fall upon our aerostat.
Below, an unknown landscape is indistinctly sketched. Fiance has
gone from beneath us. We are now sailing over Belgium. I note
carefully the indications of the various instruments. Our height at
midnight is 3,280 feet, We shall soon he higher. Whilst I write
these lines our ears are assailed by the noise of a waterfall, which
breaks the profound silence of our journey. We bend over the car
to reconnoitre the country below, and we find that after passing over
a small stream we have come upon a larger one, which can only be
the Meuse. We follow its sinuous course for some time. Beautiful
river, I welcome thee ! Near thy banks, on the old mountain which
overlooks thy fertile plain, I was born. Little did I think, whilst
playing some childish game within sound of the murmur of thy
FROM PARIS INTO PRUSSIA. 20'
ripple, that I should some day truss over thy stream suspended to
this light aerial globe ! Thy peaceful waters How towards the Rhine
and the North Sea, into which they fall, and are lost for ever. Thus
is it with our own brief existence, flowing towards the regions of
cold and mystery, to vanish some day in that unknown ocean into
which we must all descend
" See ! mon ami, how beautiful this is ! Do not dream of days gone
by. Are not those the lights of Xamur, some six or eight leagues
distant ? And see, there is Huy, and beyond it again Liege ! Here
we are right over Belgium, and we may cross a corner of Holland,
perhaps, before we enter Prussia ! "
These observations from my worthy pilot bring back my thoughts
to our present situation. We are over the district of the Sambre and
the Meuse, which recalls to our mind the military aeronauts who were
attached to the armies of the French Republic, and who observed the
disposition of the enemy's camp by means of balloons. Perhaps the
gaining of the battle of Fleurus was due to them.
Since that time balloons have been little used in warfare. In
1859 M. Eugene Godard was called to Solferino, and the balloon
which was to have served on this occasion carried us up on our first
aerial excursion.
The Belgian towns, lit up by gaslight and the flames issuing from
the smoky summits of the blast furnaces, present to us silent aerial
navigators the most singular spectacle. The deep sound of the Meuse,
as it flows along its course, is accompanied by the sharper noises from
the workshops, whose mysterious flames and dark smoke rise in the
distance around us.
The night passes by almost before we are aware of it. As early as
twelve o'clock, although we are yet far from the summer solstice, the
pale twilight was distinctly visible in the north. The light of the
moon is* diffused through the sky ; the clouds are not opaque enough
to interrupt its rays.
Green and Monck Mason, on their long night journey from London
to Germany, accomplished on the 7th November, 1836, passed over
this spot also, over Liege and the Belgian blast furnaces. They tell us
that after midnight the lights below were extinguished; that there was
no moon in the sky, though the stars shone brilliantly ; nevertheless
absolute darkness reigned around them. They compare the darkness
to a " mass of black marble, which yielded on our approach, allowing
us to enter still more deeply into its cold dark sides."
I must confess that in the three night voyages which I have made
— in one of which the sky was overcast, and there was no moon — I
208 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
never experienced any sncli sensation, but I agree with these travellers
as regards the severe character, the silence and the solitude of such a
journey prosecuted at some five or six thousand feet above the surface
of the earth.
During a period of profound silence and relative darkness we heard
a remarkable noise above us, as if the silk of the balloon had cracked
and the gas were flowing rapidly from the opening. The real cause
of this was soon discovered: the network creaked upon the silken
envelope from the effects of damp, and the three little balloons l were
rolling along the equator of the larger one, their friction against the
envelope causing a slight noise, which, in the profound silence.
appeared more intense to ns than it really was.
After midnight time appears to fly rapidly. At lh. 30m. the
twilight is tolerably luminous, although the air is veiled by
mists. AVe lighten the balloon by throwing out a few pounds of
ballast, and rise gradually and slowly to a height of 4,920 feet. Wo
leave the three towns, whose lights we perceive one after the other to
bur left, and at 2h. 50m. we pass Liege on our left.
Whenever we sail above the clouds the moon shines forth with
peculiar brilliancy. Venus glitters through the morning dawn, and
the twilight is intense enough to produce shadows.
Above the light of dawn we have truly a fairy scene : clouds of
every shade, which have accumulated in these higher regions, form the
most wonderful of landscapes, not unlike the curious pictures drawn
by the hand of Nature on certain descriptions of agates, and we
would imagine that wre had before us several antique towns situated
among vast ' Alpine ranges, and somewhat vaguely distinguished
through the mist, high above which extends the pure sky.
Although the air below is more or less veiled by light mists, we can
distinguish the country, before three o'clock, as clearly as at mid-day.
Our course follows the edge of some considerable forests sihiated on
our right hand. These plains (are they plains ?) have a very different
aspect from those on French territory. In place of the regular
patches of fields which lie upon the surface in parallel lines like the
squares of a thin board, the country here is composed of fields of
every size and form, like the various provinces on a coloured map ;
most of which are surrounded by hedges' as they are in England.
For some time, already, we have been able to perceive the course of
the Rhine, though we are still sixty miles distant from it, We leave
1 This is the hist time that the author mentions these three small balloons
attached to the circle, a woodcut of which is given a few pages further on ; and they
are alluded to again in the sequel. — T. L. P.
FROM PARIS INTO PRUSSIA. 211
Spa on the right of our course. Until this voyage, that which was
made from Paris to Spa in 1851 by M. Eugene Godard, accom-
panied by the Princess de Solms (Madame Rattazzi) and five other
noble travellers, was the largest excursion ever achieved by my
worthy pilot. In future this will rank third, as our journey to
Angouleme was fifty miles longer, and the present one will be
upwards of sixty miles in excess of . it.
The last Belgian town which we pass is Venders, and at 3h. 40m.
we pass into Prussian territory by the little town of Eupen.
About 3h. 15m., whilst sailing along at a height of 5,900 feet, the
hygrometer marking 93 and the thermometer being at 41° Fahr., we
witness with much interest the formation of clouds, which develop
themselves rapidly both above and below us. The country, which
since day-dawn had exhibited an infinite variety of rich tints, is now
gradually masked from view by the accumulation of fleecy cloud
fragments. We have scarcely time to admire the vast variety of
tone and colour, the villages, the woods, the roads, and the fields,
before the formation of abundant white clouds cuts off the view on
every side. At first they are quite diaphanous, but they suddenly
become opaque and completely hide the lower regions from sight.
These clouds are formed and vanish again with astonishing rapidity,
and we might almost ask what fairy wand orders them to appear so
mysteriously over the surface of the country. From the hygrometrical
observations taken this morning, I am of opinion that currents of
cold air circulate through the atmosphere and condense into visible
cloud the layers of damp air through which they pass. Then the
slightest current of warm air causes the mist vesicles to disappear
again.
The small clouds are, moreover, attracted mutually to one another ;
no sooner are they formed at various points than they approach each
other and unite into one mass. We sailed for two hours above these
clouds, which lay along a zone situated at a height of from 3,280 to
5,900 feet; some of them may, consequently, have been about 2,000
feet thick. Sometimes our balloon actually seemed to float along the
surface of this cloud ocean, and the residence of man below was then
completely eclipsed from our sight, and was, for the time, far from
our thoughts also.
Our balloon has continued to rise, and we are now 6,560 feet high.
And what are those golden fires which light up the eastern horizon
as if the whole hemisphere beyond were in a state of conflagration ?
It is the approaching sunrise, which we shall presently have the
privilege of witnessing in all its grandeur, for we are now 6,560 feet
l' 2
212 Til A VELS IX THE A IE.
above the valley of the Rhine. Our Paris chronometer marks only
half-past three, and the Annuaire (hi Bureau des Longitudes informs
us that sunrise is at 4h. 14m. But then we are at Aix-la-Chapelle,
:'.' 44' to the east of the meridian of Paris, and at an elevation of
6;560 feet, which will account for it all. On our right we can
distinguish the province of Luxemburg to beyond Treves, and on
our left we can trace Holland to the shore of the North Sea.
. The Rhine flows along with its silver ripple in the distance, like
a serpent spread over the green surface of Germany, and whose
flattened head reposes at the edge of the North Sea. All nature is
silent, save from time to time the timid chirping of some little bird ;
when, suddenly, a vast golden streak of light breaks forth from the
east and caresses the highest clouds of the atmosphere, clothing them
in rosy and golden tints. The orb of day has just appeared, and its
golden disc Hies amid the piirple clouds which have separated on
its approach.
As the sun rose gradually from the other hemisphere our balloon also
rose in space, and we were 7,r>4(> feet above the earth when its glorious
rays shot above the lower strata of clouds and penetrated between
the lower cloud zone and the highest grey atmosphere, which was
decorated only by a few white streaks of vapour.
At 3h. 54m. the sun appeared to us to rise a second time. Hidden,
at this moment, behind some dense rows of cloud, we could easily
imagine that its disc had not yet risen ; when we saw it again upon
the horizon, it had no longer a deep scarlet tint, but one of silvery
white. It was the waters of the Rhine reflecting the dazzling image
of the sun's disc towards us at this instant.
Before we have reached Aix-la-Chapelle we can see Cologne with
the naked eye, or, rather, we can distinguish the cathedral as a dense
black mass upon the silver background of the river's course. At
4h. 26m. we pass directly over the railway station of Buren (which
is on the line from Aix to Cologne).
Whilst we were at an altitude of 7,<S70 feet and passing above a
layer of clouds, the sound of church bells reached our ears ; it was
the first terrestrial noise we had heard since the music last night.
The sound of bells is very soft and sweet as heard from the skies,
but we were not allowed to enjoy it long, for it was soon followed by
the sound of cannon ; and from minute to minute the voice of this
gracious apparatus of civilization and progress growled among the
clouds. It was the artillery of Miilheim preparing itself for the
next war.
The ancient citv of Cologne forms beneath us a regular semicircle
FROM PARIS INTO PHI' SSI A. 215
soldered to the left bank of the Rhine. Unless one examined it
somewhat attentively, it might be taken for a moderate-sized snail
sticking to the thin branch of a tree. We are sailing along tran-
quilly and magnificently at a height of 5,900 feet, admiring the rich
landscape of the Rhine, the Siebengebirge and their picturesque
valleys, the vales and hills of Westphalia, and the course of the
river towards the grey landscape of Holland.
The moisture of the air had been gradually diminishing, and the
hygrometer marked 62 ; the thermometer was at freezing-point. But
the sun had at last penetrated the clouds, and shone brilliantly;
it was the finest period of our long journey, and we were fully
enjoying the magnificence of the spectacle before us ; the balloon,
instead of sinking, rose still higher under the influence of the drier
atmosphere which now surrounded us. What man, in face of such
a splendid spectacle and feeling perfectly secure in the midst of the
azure vault, could ever dream of returning again to the earth's
surface ? Alas ! there was a man who, by a kind of nostalgic desire
to gain the ground, was at this moment anxiously inspecting the green
plains of Prussia ; and this man was precisely Eugene Godard !
When I saw his hand approach the valve-rope, I threatened as
severely as I could to denounce him in the public journals. I begged
him to let the wind carry us on to Berlin ; I tried to convince him
that his aeronautic reputation would benefit considerably thereby,
that my meteorological observations were not completed, that the
balloon was still good for a length of time, &c. All in vain.
My companion replied that a, journey of more than 300 miles
(by the road) was pretty well for one sitting ; added that we had
scarcely any ballast left for the aerostat, and no breakfast for
ourselves ; and finished his discourse by repeating that the wind
always rises in the morning, that with our present resources we
could not hold out for the whole day, should be forced to descend
before mid-day, and should probably meet with some accident, as we
had no ballast wherewith to counteract an unforeseen fall or the
intense wind of the plains.
I could not do otherwise than accept his arguments, and bow
before the greater aeronautical experience of my celebrated guide,
who thereupon pulled the valve-rope as we were crossing the
Rhine at half-past five o'clock.
The three little balloons attached to the circle of our aerostat
caused us to descend in a spiral direction. The earth seemed to turn
round under us, and we appeared to be precipitated in a cycloid from
the higher regions of the air. The sun lit us up brilliantly when we
218
Til AY ELS IX THE A III.
were only2;920 feet high. The landscape below became more defined,
and the dark mountains raised their peaks higher in the air as we
descended lower than their summits. As we made our descent upon
( iernian territory, we put up the French flag on one of the ropes of the
balloon. As soon as we got near enough to the ground to distinguish
t lie people, we saw a multitude of peasants, in curious costumes and
with enormous pipes in their mouths, running through the fields to
meet us. When the car alighted gently on the surface of the green
sward, plenty of strong arms were there to bold us securely down.
Our greatest difficulty was to prevent the men smoking when they
approached the balloon. Our ears were soon overpowered by the
cheers and guttural shouts of these worthy Germans.
We had descended in the neighbourhood of Solingen, near Dussel-
dorf, 4° 4.V east of Paris, and 51° 6' north latitude, having accomplished
330 miles in twelve hours and a half. Our intention was to have left
the balloon inflated until the evening, and then to continue our
journey : after being towed to a convenient place by the bystanders,
my first care was to secure the meteorological instruments, to load
the car with heavy stones, and then to pour the gas of the little
balloons into the larger one, to replace that which had been lost ;
but a violent storm arose in the evening, and obliged us to empty
the balloon of all its "as— much to our resret.
THE SATELLITE BALLOONS
..,-,
IMiP
m - e
■ECSgSJ
*-jfe*
ASCENT OF M. FLAJlMAUInN FIU U THE OAKDEX OF THE CONSERVATOIRE.
CHAPTER X.
FttOM THE CONSEliVATOIHE DES ARTS ET METIERS TO THE
GARDENS OF BEAUGENCY.
We have now come, dear reader, to the last aerial voyage of tliis
series — that which we made ou the 15th April, 1868. It may have
been remarked that the narrative of each journey differs both in
its form an 1 object from that of the others ; and if, instead of ten
chapters, I had been asked to write one hundred, the field of observa-
tion is so vast that I doubt not every succeeding account would
have differed widely from that which preceded it. For a long
time the impressions thus produced will be endowed with novelty,
and will always present themselves to the mind under new and
unexpected aspects. We who inhabit the earth's surface have
scarcely any more perfect notion of Nature, of the grandeur and
active work of the atmosphere, than the fish which swim at the
bottom of the sea can have of the surface of the ocean, the currents,
the tides, or the phenomena of heat and light which constantly occur
in the higher regions of their ocean. The aerial ocean contributes
largely to the life and beauty of the globe. We vegetate on its shoals
and in its shallow waters, and remain ignorant of the grand spectacles
afforded in its greater depths. The contrast between this state of
ignorance and the richness of their higher regions is so great that I
218 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
cannot understand how it is that man has not become domiciled
above the clouds, in that pure and beautiful region where it never
rains, where snow is never seen, and where the soft light breeze wafts
our car along without making itself perceptible.
The aerial excursion which is the subject of this chapter is
not so extensive as the last, and will not take us across the
Rhine. But it has its special character. It is not always the
longest journeys which are the best or the most instructive, and
Nature often presents us suddenly with some new spectacle which
we little expected.
I will observe once more, in commencing this account, that the
presence of a professional aeronaut is exceedingly useful in an aerial
excursion made for scientific purposes ; the observer is too much
occupied to attend to the balloon, and the management of the latter
requires, as we have seen, a thoroughly experienced person, whose
attention must be constantly riveted upon the ever-varying equi-
librium of the aerostat as it proceeds on its course.
"We rose from the garden of the Conservatoire, where sixty-four
years previously Gay-Lussac and Biot made their memorable ascent.
The instruments were all compared with standards before we started.
It required five hours to inflate our balloon of 42,000 cubic feet
capacity. At three o'clock M. Eugene Godard and myself took our
seats in the car, and at 3h. 15m. we rose very rapidly and in a south-
westerly direction.
Attached to the network at the equatorial line of the balloon
might have been seen hanging a circular piece of tissue ; it was a
parachute about a yard wide only, which may be used to moderate
the rapidity of an ascent or a descent, as proposed by Count Xavier
Branicki, with whom our readers have made acquaintance in a
previous excursion.
This parachute, which we here tried for the first time, caused
the balloon to oscillate for some time, for we were obliged to rise
rapidly on account of the wind. The weather was overcast since
the morning, and slightly wet about noon, and at the moment we
started there was no break in the clouds. At the first glance below
we could not help feeling some surprise at the sight of the immense
crowd which was stationed outside the garden around the Conserva-
toire. It seemed as if all Paris had come to witness this ascent, in
spite of the care I had taken not to make any announcement of
it beforehand.
One minute and fifty seconds after our departure we crossed
over the Seine and the new Tribunal of Commerce, being then
FROM PARIS TO HEAUGENCY. 219
2,020 feet high; three minutes later we took as a guiding point
my little observatory near the Pantheon, being then at a height
of 2,220 feet. At 3h. 25m. we crossed the fortifications between
the Porte d'Arcueil and the Sceaux railway, and at a height of
3,120 feet.
At this moment — and it is the first time I ever noticed it — the
current changes its direction, and is now due south. At 3h. 34m.
we shall pass to the east of Bourg-la-Reine, and later (at 3h. 53m.)
shall leave Lonjumeau to the west.
The temperature decreases rapidly as we rise. The standard
thermometer at the Conservatoire marked 59° Fahr. in the hall
on the ground-floor ; my thermometer marked also 59° in the
garden before we started. At an elevation of 1,969 feet it had
sunk to 46°-4, at 2,460 feet to 42°'8, at 2,838 feet it marks 41°, at
3,117 feet it is 39°-2, at 3,773 feet 37°-4, and at 4,265 feet it
marks 35°-6.
I seek in vain for the lower level of the clouds ; they are not
spread out in a uniform layer, as I have sometimes noticed, but
are disseminated here and there. When we arrived at a height of
3,937 feet, many were seen dispersed like immense light flakes of
wool beneath lis.
Our breath condensed in steam whilst we soared through a zone of
air 3,770 feet high, where the hygrometer gave its maximum indication,
and where the thermometer marked 370-4. There were no clouds ;
but it was near the lower limits of the disseminated layers. Higher
up again our breath did not condense in this manner. At 4,120
feet we are almost completely enveloped in clouds ; the earth dis-
appears gradually from sight ; the general aspect of the country, the
woods and lanes, are still visible ; soon, however, the ground is
hidden from sight, and at 4,642 feet we are at the higher level of
the clouds. Their density is slight, and to-day I do not experience
the singular effect produced upon me the first time I plunged
into an immense layer of clouds, when I was astounded by the
light which beamed into them, producing a joyous effect as we
soared out of the lower regions and through immense masses
of cloud.
But a marvellous spectacle awaited us. At a moment when we
least expected to see anything remarkable, and whilst I was care-
fully noting down the indications of the hygrometer, we found
ourselves near to the singularly undulated surface of the cloud-tops,
and suddenly — at less than 100 feet from us perhaps, and oppo-
site to the sun, which had just revealed itself — we see the lower
220 TRA VELS IN THE A I 11.
portions of a balloon about tbe same size as our own, and sus-
pended to it a car containing two travellers, whose forms are so
familiar that we recognize them without any difficulty.
The minutest details are apparent, even the thinnest ropes and
the cords and instruments suspended to them. I make a motion with
the right arm, — my spectre moves his left. Godard flourishes the
national flag, and the shadow of a flag is moved by the spectral
hand in the air. All around the image of the car we see con-
centric circles of various colours : in the centre a yellowish white
background, on which is depicted the form of the car ; then comes
a pale blue circle, around which is a yellow zone ; then again a
greyish red zone, and finally a light violet tint, forming the external
circumference, and blending itself gradually into the grey tone of
the clouds.
It is not the first time that this interesting spectacle has been
witnessed. It is the first time it was ever seen from a balloon,1 no
doubt; but there is nothing very surprising in this, as balloon
ascents have been so very rare (!) up to the present time. In
mountainous regions several observers have noticed and measured
these said luminous aureohe. Certain popular treatises on meteor-
ology have long since given representations of the phenomena in
question, under the name of Ulloa's Circles. In these engravings
we see a traveller (Ulloa himself) standing upon a mountain; at
a certain distance from him we see his shadow represented verti-
cally, and around his head we have first a luminous circle, then a
series of rings of various colours. It was a phenomenon of this
description which I had just witnessed from the balloon. But it
was not exactly an Ulloa's circle either, and I heard it described
recently in a popular lecture-room, in a very gracious manner, as
Flammarions Circle. But it is needless to incorporate another
surname into treatises on Physics (unless it be for the purpose of
showing that Ulloa's phenomenon is somewhat variable in its aspect),
since we have nowadays grouped all these effects under the generic
name of anthelia.
The word anthelia indicates by its derivation that the phenomena
in question appear in that region of the sky which is opposite to
the sun. They were seen by La Condamine, Bouguer, and Ulloa
in the Cordilleras. The shadow of the observer is figured upon the
surface of a mist or vapour in proximity to the spot where he
1 I always saw the image of the balloon, the ear, and ourselves, surrounded with
several luminous concentric circles, on the clouds, on passing above them in bright
.•un>hhr.\ — Ed. _£j
FROM PARIS TO REAUQENCY. 221
stands; a light aureola surrounds the head of the figure. "What
surprised lis most," says Bouguer, "was to find the head of the
figure surrounded by an aureola formed of three or four concentric
circles of very vivid tints, similar to those of the rainbow, the red
being outside. It was a kind of glory, and each spectator con-
templated with selfish delight that which surrounded his own head,
without noticing those which appeared also about the heads of his
neighbours."
Ullda relates, in his turn, that each of them saw his shadow in
the centre of the three rainbow circles, surrounded by a fourth
circle of one colour. " The most external colour of each bow,"
says he, " was scarlet or red ; the tint next to it orange, the third
yellow, the fourth straw-colour, and the last green. All these seg-
ments of circles were perpendicular to the line of the horizon ; they
moved with the motion of the person whose image they surrounded
like a glory. At the commencement of the phenomenon the form
of the arcs was oval, but towards the end of it they were perfectly
circular."
The same apparition was formerly noticed by Scoresby in the polar
regions. According to Ids description, it is seen whenever there are
sunshine and fog at the same time. In the polar regions when a
layer of light mist rises on the sea, an observer placed on the mast-
head sees one or more circles upon the fog. These rings are con-
centric, and their common centre is situated upon the straight line
which joins the eye of the observer and the fog, on the side opposite
to the sun. The number of rings varies from one to five ; they are
most numerous and brilliant when the sunshine is very bright and
the mist thick and low. On the 23d July, 1821, Scoresby saw four
concentric circles around the shadow of his head. The colours of the
first and second were very vivid, those of the third were visible only
at intervals, being very faint, and the fourth was formed merely by
a slight tint of green.
The German meteorologist Kiimtz has often witnessed the same
phenomenon in the Alps. Whenever the shadow of his head fell
upon a cloud, it was seen surrounded by a luminous aureola.
To what peculiar action of light must we attribute these effects ?
Bouguer declares that they result from the passage of light through
crystalline particles of ice ; such is also the opinion of De Saussure
and Scoresby.
The observations made from the balloon as described above prove
clearly that this cannot be the case. On the heights of mountains
we cannot assure ourselves directly of the fact by rising into the
222 TRA VELS IN THE AIR.
cloud which shows the phenomenon ; but the balloon allows us
to pass into and through the clouds, and to soar into the very
spot where the optical effect takes place, so that we can easily
examine the state of the cloud. At the moment on which we saw
the phenomenon we had risen to a height of 4,593 feet, and were
at the higher level of the clouds (this surface was far from uniform,
being excessively undulated and broken). The thermometer marked
35c6. The hygrometer had indicated its maximum (77) 820 feet
lower down, in the lower portion of the cloud zone ; it had then
risen to 73. The aqueous vapour that formed the cloud in which
the phenomenon occurred was quite devoid of any particle of ice.
I therefore adopt the opinion of Professor Kanitz, that authelia
are caused by the action of the vesicles of mist upon light.
The phenomenon may therefore be referred entirely to the
diffraction of light as asserted long ago by Fraunhofer, and con-
firmed by some observations of Kamtz, in which he noticed a
single corona or small halo when the cloud was between him and
the sun, and an anthebon when the same cloud had got opposite
to the sun.
This phenomenon does not differ essentially from that which we
noticed in the preceding narratives when speaking of the luminous
shadow of the balloon; for as our aerostat rose higher above the
clouds, we saw the outline of the balloon get smaller and the coloured
aureola increase in size, so that, instead of merely surrounding the
image of the car, it soon enveloped that of the entire balloon. The
colours then got fainter and disappeared, leaving merely a luminous
shadow with a dark nucleus as a centre, which shadow travelled
with us along the clouds. We have already seen that this luminosity
is owing to the reflection of light from the little vesicles of water or
dew-drops.
The sun is very hot, and dilates the gas of the balloon, thereby
increasing our ascensional power. Above us we have the pure blue
sky, and the shadow of the balloon is much smaller and further
from us ; it shows itself more distinctly when it happens to fall upon
thick clouds; the rainbow colours surround it completely. A vast
incommensurable ocean now lies beneath us, broken up here and
there into enormous fleecy blocks, which curve and heave themselves
into various forms and positions with extraordinary rapidity. When
we skim over the upper surface of these heaps of cloud, we some-
times penetrate into enormous white mountains of vapour, and cannot
help feeling surprise at the fact of their offering no resistance to our
progress.
FROM PARIS TO BEAUGEXCY. 223
It is truly a magnificent spectacle that we have before us when
suspended as it were in a vast vacuum above an uninhabited ocean
formed of immense undulating cloud heaps, the hills and valleys of
which continue to the furthest points of the celestial horizon. The
earth is completely hidden from sight, and men live down below
enveloped in dreary fog or relative darkness without dreaming of the
splendid sunshine which reigns here above.
At 4h. 10m. we are sailing along at an altitude of 5,250 feet, and a
break in the clouds below allows us to get a glimpse of some town
surrounded by large gardens and plantations. It must be Arpajon.
But the gap closes ; the clouds travel very fast in a contrary direction
to our course ; this appearance is no doubt due to the fact that we
are travelling much faster than they are. Sometimes we feel rather
a strong breeze, which, as everyone knows, is a rare occurrence in
a balloon.
We hear dogs bark, and the roll of a drum. We have risen still
higher, and are now at a height of 7,550 feet.
The hygrometrical observations have been fertile in important data
concerning the distribution of moisture with the height. At the
surface of the earth the moisture is marked on the hygrometer as
73. It has been as follows for the various altitudes named : —
Hygrometer. Altitude in feet.
72 1,969
74 2,546
75 2,953
76 3,412
(Maximum) 77 3,773
76 4,036
75 4,528
73 4,593
70 4,757
67 4,889
64 5,(103
61 5.1 is
57 5,210
55 5,249
4- 6,562
3U 9,843
Though the sun is hot to the face, the temperature of the air
has constantly decreased. At the altitude of 9,840 feet our ther-
mometer was at 19 '4 Fahr. At that of 13,620 feet, which was
our greatest altitude, we had 10o-4, although the heat was almost
intolerable upon our heads.
22i TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
It may be difficult to describe the novel impression produced
upon the mind of the observer in these elevated and desert re-
gions ; but when a thick layer of cloud separates us completely
from the earth, we feel severed, as it were, from the sphere of lile.
Although the spectacle which presents itself is fine bej'ond descrip-
tion,— though these vast expanses cannot fail to produce a gloriously
imposing effect rather than one of sadness, — yet the vital functions
are no longer accomplished- with regularity; a dryness arises in the
throat, the lungs are more or less affected, and the presence of blood
upon the lips produces a disagreeable effect,1 which is constantly mixed
up with the contemplation of these grand scenes and the investigation
of the curious phenomena around.
When we had arrived at our greatest height, some clouds which
had not yet taken the form of cirri, but were disseminated across the
blue sky as " mares' tails," caused the gas of the balloon to condense.
The sun's rays had already caused a considerable quantity of gas to
escape by dilatation ; so that when this condensation occurred, we
sank very rapidly to about one-ha^f our elevation ; in a few minutes
we descended no less than 6,560 feet. However, we did not reach
the lower level of the clouds, thanks to our ballast, and we continued
our route at an altitude of 4,920 feet.
The little town of Etanipes passed under us almost as an invisible
object, whilst we glided at a height of from 10,000 to 13,000 I'eet above
some transparent clouds.
At 4h. 55m. the clouds became less dense, and we saw beneath us
Angerville. We had just crossed the Orleans railway, to the left of
which we sailed for a whole hour. A train from Paris followed us
for a long time, but we progressed more rapidly than it, and with
infinitely less noise !
We pass Arthenay on our right at half-past five, and Chtvillv at
5h. 43m. ; we cross the forest of Orleans and the railway, and bear
now more and more towards the west; we leave Orleans to the left,
and come upon the Loire at Mareau, following its course for some time.
The sound that was most frequently heard during this excursion
was that of the drum. Expeiiments which we made upon the echo,
show that sound returned to us in eight seconds when we were
between 4,436 and 4,518 feet high ; and in a second and a half when
at a height of 837 feet over the river Loire.
We followed the course of the Loire for a long time, and at a
comparatively short distance from its surface. As the condensation
1 I never experienced any of thes3 effects till I hail long p i ;sed the heights reach e 1
by M. Flammarion, and at no elevation wns there the presence uf bl6od. V.>.
FROM PARIS TO BEAUGENCY. 225
of the gas continued, and our ballast was well-nigh exhausted, it
would have been imprudent to continue our journey and await the
approach of night. The trace of our route upon the map told us
that we might arrive at Chambord in about half an hour, and get to
the south of Tours by half-past eight o'clock. Supposing us to have,
gone further, we should have reached Loudun at ten, Napoleon- Vendee
about midnight, and then on to the ocean, which would not have
been very agreeable on so cold a night, and without the light of the
moon. We cast our anchor at 6h. 57m. at Beaugency, having sailed
ninety miles through the air in three hours and forty-two minutes.
When at the height of 13,000 feet, we progressed at the rate of
thirty-four miles an hour.
Beaugency is the town in which the physicist Charles, member of
the Academy of Sciences, who was the first to make an ascent in a
balloon filled with pure hydrogen gas, was born ; and we had the
good fortune to make our descent precisely upon a piece of ground
belonging to a relative of the late distinguished aeronaut. The
farmer who rented the land wished to make us pay something for
the damage caused to the crops, &c, by the crowd of people who
rushed in to witness our descent, but the proprietor, reminded by
our visit of the excursions of his celebrated relative, would not
hear of it.
In concluding the account of this journey, I may state that
among the instruments experimented with, was a special aneroid
barometer, which we compared carefully in its indications with an
ordinary mercurial barometer, and have come to the conclusion that
the former instrument may be used with perfect confidence. The
instrument in cpiestion was specially prepared for this ascent by
M. Richard. It is certainly much more convenient than the
mercurial barometer, and delicate enough to indicate distinctly a
rise or fall of two yards.
It was very agreeable to me to conclude this series of aerial
travels with so vivid a reminiscence of the first philosopher who
made an ascent by means of hydrogen gas : what a period of
enthusiasm it was !
We have not made much progress, it is true, since then with
respect to the guidance of balloons, but the young science of meteor-
ology has already gained much, and will in time be placed in
possession of the laws which govern the currents of the atmosphere.
The first sailors who navigated the ocean were obliged to discover
the laws and periods of the various winds, so that they might choose
the proper seasons for their voyages. The same lot awaits our
Q
226 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
aerial navigators, and the conquest of the atmospheric ocean will
not, we hope, be delayed another century.
We may devote the conclusion of this chapter to a rapid enumera-
tion of the results of my scientific observations, which have only been
casually alluded to in the foregoing narrative.
First with regard to the distribution of moisture in the atmosphere
according to the altitude. It results from ten series of observations
specially made for this purpose, and taken at some 500 different
positions — 1. That the moisture of the air increases from the surface
of the ground to a certain height ; 2. That it reaches its maximum in
this zone; and 3. That above this zone it decreases constantly as Ave
rise into the higher regions. This zone, which I will call the zone of
maximum damp, varies in height according to the time of the day,
the period of the year, and the state of the sky. In rare circum-
stances (especially at dawn) it is situated near the surface of the
ground. This general distribution of moisture appears to be constant,
whether the sky be clouded or fine, and whether the observations are
made at night or in the daytime.
Somewhat connected with this is the increase of the diathermous
property of the air as we reach great heights and as damp decrease*.
At all altitudes greater than G,500 feet or thereabouts, it is impossible
not to be struck with the intensity of the solar rays ; a difference of
25° to 34° Fahr. has been noted between the indication of the ther-
mometer outside the car and that in the shade of the interior of
the car.
With regard to the circulation of air currents, it is curious to
note that the traces of my different aerial voyages are all represented
by lines which have a tendency to curve in one and the same general
direction. Thus, on the 23d June, 1867, the balloon started with a
north wind, directly towards the south, but it soon veered slightly
towards the west, becoming gradually south-south-west, and after a
while due south-west when we descended. A similar result was
observed in every excursion, and the fact led me to believe that
above the soil of France the currents of the atmosphere are con-
stantly deviated circularly, and in a south — west — north — east — south
direction. Is this phenomenon to be attributed to the law of
gyration of winds recognized by Dove, or the solar action and
diurnal variation in the temperature of the atmosphere as FitzEoy
supposes ? Or is the fact due, as Iladley thought and as M.
Bourgeois has recently affirmed, to the variable velocity of rotation
of the earth's surface around the central axis of the globe in different
parallels of latitude ' Lastly, have we in this circumstance the
FROM PARIS TO RE A UGENCT. 227
general current of the trade-winds described by Maury ? I cannot
at this moment decide upon the exact nature of the deviation I have
described. The velocity of the currents in which we travelled
generally increased somewhat the longer we remained in them.
They are, moreover, variable with the altitude. It appears to me
also that two or more currents flowing in different directions are very
rarely met with as we rise in the air ; and when two layers of cloud
appear to travel in opposite directions, the effect is generally caused
by the motion of one layer being more rapid than the other when
the latter appears to be moving in a contrary direction.
I have made 550 aerostatic observations upon the decrease of tem-
perature with the altitude, and it results from them that this decrease
is more rapid when the sky is fine ; slower when it is overcast. With
a clear sky the mean decrease was 1° Fahr. for 345 feet ; in a cloudy
sky the mean decrease was 1° Fahr. for every 354 feet.
The temperature of the clouds is higher than that of the air above
and below them.
The decrease of temperature is more rapid in regions near to the
surface, and becomes less rapid as we rise higher. It is more
rapid in the evening than in the morning, and on hot days than on
cold days. Sometimes we meet with regions which are hotter or
colder than the mean temperature corresponding to the observed
altitude ; they appear due to warm or cold currents flowing through
the air.
I have found it convenient to class clouds into two varieties only ;
namely, cumulo-stratus, which when they lie upon the ground are like
enormous masses of grey steam, or when seen at the zenith like large
bales of cotton, and which appear to touch each other when seen in
perspective near the horizon. The other description is the cirrus,
little white clouds appearing in the higher regions, taking various
tints in the evening, sometimes mottled, and often floating in long-
narrow strips. I leave aside the stratus, which does not exist in the
daytime, and whose form appears due to an effect of perspective ; and
the nimbus, which merely indicates the shape taken by a cloud when
it resolves itself into rain.
Alluding only to the two special classes of cloud, the former
(cumulo-stratus) are usually situated between the altitudes of 3,250
feet and 4,900 feet from the earth's surface. But they are occa-
sionally met with beneath and above these altitudes. The second
class (cirrus) are never lower than five times the mean height of the
other description.
The maximum of relative moisture is found underneath the lower
Q 2
TEA VELS IX THE AIR.
level of the clouds. The temperature increases, on the contrary, as
we rise into the body of the cloud itself.
I have already alluded to some experiments on sound, made during
our excursions. I find that the intensity of various sounds emitted at
the surface of the earth is carried up to very great heights in the
atmosphere. The whistle of a locomotive rises to near 10,000 feet, the
noise of a railway train to 8,200 feet, the barking of a dog to 5,900
feet ; the report of a musket is heard to about the same height ; the
shouting of men and women can lie heard sometimes as high as 5.000
feet, and at this altitude the crowing of a cock and the sound of a
church bell are audible. At a height of 4,55(1 feet the roll of a drum
and the music of an orchestra are distinctly heard. At 3,255 feet in
altitude, a man's voice may make itself heard ; the rolling of a cart
on the pavement can be distinguished somewhat higher ; and in the
stillness of the night the course of a river, or even that of a small
stream, produces at this elevation almost the effect of a high water-
fall. At a height of 3,000 feet the croaking of frogs in a morass is
heard in all its intensity, and even the sharp note of the mole-cricket
is distinguished easily at an altitude of 2,500 feet.
It is very different, however, as regards sounds which travel down-
wards from the balloon to the earth. Whilst we can hear distinctly
the voice of a man shouting 1,600 feet below us, he cannot distinguish
what we say until we sink to within 330 feet of him.
Clouds form no obstacle to the transmission of sound, as I have
before observed.
As to the velocity of sound, I could only estimate it rouphly by
experiments in the echo, by means of a good chronometer. The mean
velocity thus obtained, deduced from the double trajectory of the
sound from the balloon to the earth and back again, falls between
1,083 and 1,875 feet per second.
The scintillation of the stars is much less in the higher regions of
the air than at the surface of the ground.
At elevations greater than 10,000 feet, the sky directly above us
appears dark and impenetrable. It has a greyish blue tint around
the zenith, an azure blue in the zone between 40° and 50°, and pale
whitish blue nearer to the horizon.
1 have often noticed the apparent effect of the moon upon the
clouds. It suffices to pass two hours in a balloon about the time
of full moon, to perceive that certain light clouds are resolved and
disappear as the moon rises higher above the horizon. Is it a simple
coincidence, or has the moon a direct effect upon them?
Such is a very brief sketch of the principal observations, scarcely
FROM PARIS TO BEAUGENCY.
229
alluded to in previous chapters, made during my ten aerial travels.
I have a few others which have not yet been sufficiently discussed to
he presented here. I trust that those I have already given above
may prove of some use to the science of meteorology. When the
conquest of the air shall have been achieved, universal fraternity
will be established upon the earth, everlasting peace will descend to
us from heaven, and the last links which divide men and nations will
be severed.
OPTICAL PHENOMENON OBSERVED P.Y H. FLtMMARION.
PART III
AERIAL TRAVELS
OF
MESSRS. DE FONVIELLE AND TISSANDIER.
THE 'GIANT BALLOON AND THE "IMPERIAL BALLOON.
CHAPTEE I.
THE LAST VOYAGES OF THE " GIANT/
(W. PE FONVIELLE.)
My friend Nadar begins his memoirs of the Giant with two necro-
logical notices, one on the courageous Pilatre de Eozier, and the
other on the distinguished Dupuis-Delcourt. In spite of myself, I
shall imitate him here, and this account of my first balloon ascents
will commence in a similar manner, for the glorious Hanoverian
balloon, the gigantic Giant, is dead ! After having served in the
excursions of which I shall presently relate the painful history, it
was determined to transform this glorious son of the air into a captive
balloon . . . but he would not allow himself to be confined to the air
of the Cremorne Gardens ! The three ascents of which I am about
to speak may be considered as the three last gasps of the late Giant.
I cannot say how long ago the desire of rising into the air developed
itself in my breast, but I was always one of those who envied swallows
their wings ; and whenever I happened to see up above the form of a
balloon that had just escaped from some hippodrome or other, I always
felt my heart beat — partly from pleasure and partly from fear of
seeing the aerial navigators come to grief, for 1 was then ignorant
of the ease with which such ascents can be made, and, all things
considered, with what safety they can be accomplished.
234 TRA VELS IN THE AIR
The means of guiding balloons also occupied my thoughts not a
little, at a period when I did not understand the mechanism of a
common steam-engine, hut those thoughts ceased to trouble me when
I became better acquainted with the car of an aerostat. I am not
different from other people in this respect, and I firmly believe that
the more a man becomes an aeronaut, the less he will torture the
brains of worthy mechanics. Go up into the atmosphere, make
yourself practically acquainted with it at various times and seasons,
and you will become convinced, like myself, that we scarcely know,
even yet, all the resources of a balloon ! Before we discard the
apparatus altogether, it is at least prudent and wise to ascertain
what can be done with it !
Some twenty years ago I sketched out the project of a captive
balloon with the view of initiating the public in these matters, a
project which was afterwards carried out by M. Giffard, and in which
I should undoubtedly have failed. But the Coup d'etat happening
about this time, I was promenaded from prison to prison until my
aerostatic dreams vanished forcibly. This state of captivity produced
in me, nevertheless, a passion for aerial adventure : I saw the clouds
through the bars of the cage, I admired their ever-varying forms and
tints, their rapid metamorphoses and curious movements. At night I
saw the stars, but their distant light did not speak so eloquently to
my soul as the clouds of my native country, rolling along like huge
mountains of gold and silver upon the azure background of the
pure sky.
I was formerly a pupil at the College Ste. Barbe, together with my
two brothers, one of whom afterwards had M. Banal as assistant, at a
period when the latter was Professor of Chemistry, and just about to
make his memorable balloon ascents. When I returned to Paris after
numerous peregrinations, M. Barral had founded a journal called the
Presse Scicntifique, on which I eagerly accepted a position. Whenever
the opportunity occurred I never failed to ask my worthy editor-in-
chief for some details of his aerial excursions, and listened with great
attention to all his lectures, until, in fact, I believe I knew by heart
all that could be said upon aerostatics in spite of the vastness of
the subject.
I was bold enough to publish in the above-mentioned journal a few
articles on aerial navigation, and I solicited rich amateurs of extra-
ordinary adventures to come forward with the francs necessary to
enable me to repeat the experiment which Euggieri had made upon
a sheep. I declared that I was ready to be shot up in a sky-rocket,
provided that its projectile power were carefully calculated, and that
W. ])E FONVIEt.I.E.
THE LAST VOYAGES OF THE " GIANT" 237
it were provided with a parachute. But it was all in vain ; no
capitalist presented himself.
The idea of making the experiment was suggested to me by some
performances given at Algiers by the Brothers Braguet, on the
Mustapha plain. These hold aeronauts abandoned themselves to the
caprice of a small fire-balloon, inflated by hot air from burning straw.
They rose at first with very great rapidity, which soon decreased,
however; and when they had risen to a height of about 500 yards,
they descended slowly about half a mile from their starting-point.
Their performance lasted, at longest, not more than five or six minutes.
Now, it appeared to me that the ascensional force of a sky-rocket
might be regulated in such a manner as to permit an ascent of short
duration, so that it could be employed, for instance, to get a peep
into an enemy's camp in time of war. Rozier's sheep was not
injured in making such an ascent — why should an aeronaut perish
in a like experiment ?
The ascents accomplished by the Brothers Braguet in Algiers met
with a very mediocre success, in spite of my articles on the subject
in the newspaper Algirie Nouvelle. The Europeans witnessed the
spectacle with curiosity and pleasure, but the native Mussulmans
did not appear to take the slightest interest in it. I remember,
among others, a group of Arab chiefs, who had come to Algiers
for the races, and got a sight of the balloon ascents gratis. None
of them paid the slightest attention to the performance, and the
only individual of the party who seemed at all interested in what
was going on overhead was a huge lion attached to the suite of
one of these Koubars !
This is not the first time that ignorant and fanatic people have
been noted as manifesting complete indifference to balloon ascents.
After the taking of Cairo, when General Buonaparte wished to
produce an effect upon the inhabitants, he not only made them a
speech, but supplemented it with the ascent of a fire-balloon. The
attempt was a complete failure, for the French alone looked up to the
clouds to see what became of the balloon.
But I must return to the Presse Scicntifiquc, from which I have
digressed somewhat.
An inventor having suggested the notion of establishing a direct
p.erial communication by means of balloons between Paris and St.
Cloud, I took upon myself to make known the difficulties, or rather the
impossibilities, of such an attempt. How necessary it is to separate
dreams and reality when the subject of aerial navigation is on the
tapis ! The world of the imagination borders so intimately upon the
238 TEA VEZS IN THE AIE.
other, that common sense must be constantly on the alert, unless we
wish to travel with Cyrano de Bergerac, Edgar Poe, and Jules Verne.
A captive balloon no longer pertains to the atmosphere, neither
does it belong entirely to the earth. It is forced, if I may so speak,
to serve two masters at the same time. It is at the mercy of the
winds, and its anchorage to the soil is no protection to it. By
bringing all the resources of art to bear upon its car, by covering the
whole affair with an infinite amount of ropes, pulleys, &c, we cannot
ensure its stability, nor answer a moment for its safety.
Finally, I protested firmly against the flying machines imagined by
Landelle and Nadar.
Twice I contemplated the pleasure of making an ascent in the
Giant, the first from Meaux, and the second from Hanover; but
I only succeeded in getting a ticket to witness the performance. It
was only five or six years later that I had the pleasure of seeing an
ascent of the Giant announced to take place at the time of the
Exposition Universelle, on the 23rd June, 1867.
This was the first balloon ascent which had taken place at Paris
since the Hanoverian campaign, and an immense crowd came to
witness it. Thousands of spectators pressed round the enclosure
which contained the colossal balloon and its most illustrious captain,
M. Nadar ; the tickets of admission had been issued at prices varying
from one franc to twenty francs, and the spectators were arranged
accordingly, in concentric bands upon the esplanade of the Invalides,
It was an unfortunate choice of position, full of sad souvenirs ! It
recalled the misfortunes of the Globe of Lennox, the Eagle of Godard,
and of the Flying Fish of M. Delamarne. But the Champ de Mars
was occupied — the Exhibition building stood upon it.
A large pipe had been placed in a ditch dug for the occasion, and
conducted the gas to the centre of the esplanade. In order to occupy
the attention of the spectators whilst the great balloon was being
inflated, bombs, crackers, and small balloons of one cubic yard
capacity were sent up into the air and produced a wonderful effect.
These preliminary operations might have served to determine the
direction of the wind at various heights, but they were only looked
upon as a means of diverting the attention of the public from the
large balloon in course of inflation ; for they had to wait several hours.
It was nearly four o'clock, in fact, before the network was joined to
the car and the latter loaded with ballast. The car being attached to
the hoop, and the last preparation for departure having been made,
the travellers took their seats one by one, and, to my great joy, I find
myself among them. There were M. Nadar, the illustrious captain ;
THE LAST VOYAGES OF THE "GIANT." 239
M. Simonin, a well-known mining engineer and a great traveller ;
M. Sonrel, one of the astronomers of the Imperial Observatory, who
was then occupied with a work on " The Bottom of the Ocean " (ex-
tremes meet in the atmosphere !) ; and some others.
Here we are, all of us in the car ; but one more operation is yet
requisite. We must put out a sufficient number of bags of ballast to
give the balloon sufficient ascensional force. We soon find that we
shall be obliged to depart without any ballast at all, unless we take
care what we are about. One of the travellers must get out, we are
too numerous. Upon whom will the eye of the ferocious captain
happen to fall ? Though protected by the presence of my chief editor
in the car, I cannot help fearing that my aeronautic debut m is now
threatened. Luckily, I notice in the car an enormous copper case,
like a huge chimney-pot, containing certain scientific instruments,
constructed with the view of collecting air at the temperature of
32° Fahr. Now, although the Giant can carry up a weight of some
10,000 lbs., everything included, it is tempting the gods of the air to
carry up such ponderous instruments as these. If we wish the
science of the atmosphere to make rapid progress, our experimenters
must not content themselves with sending up this heavy copper
apparatus : they must come and make the necessary operations
themselves.
The efforts of several hundred soldiers, who find it as much as
they can do to hold the monster balloon, add to the interest of the
scene. The dilettanti around are amused when these human beings
lose their footing and remain suspended for a moment in the air, like
bunches of grapes. We have not a single tool, — nothing that might
facilitate the preparations, — and yet we are within a pistol-shot of
the Universal Exhibition, where the marvels of modern machinery
abound ! Our aerostat is nevertheless completely in the savage state,
as if it were on the banks of the Niger ! After all these interruptions
and oscillations, the peculiarly unpleasant effects of which I cannot
possibly describe, the object before us is finally achieved, and I am
the last to notice it. In fact, whilst I imagined we were still awaiting
the termination of our struggle on the ground, here we are in the
middle of the clouds !
Something similar, I conceive, must be experienced by each of us
when we pass through those terrible doors of which Goethe speaks —
when we pass from life to death. So rapid .... and yet so far
.... nothing but a dream .... it seems like another life that is
just beginning for us. There is the earth going away, and here
are the clouds advancing upon us Where are we ? I have
240 TEA VELS IN THE AIR
scarcely time to ask this question, wlien a thick cloud envelopes us
entirely.
But in a little time the clouds disperse, and in one glance we em-
brace the spectators on the esplanade, and those still more numerous
on the outside. The neighbouring streets appear paved with human
heads. The grounds of the Exhibition and the parks are filled by a
compact crowd of people. Sympathetic shouts reach us from all sides,
and assure us that balloons are still popular. We are travelling along
with the rapidity of the arrow from the bow, when suddenly I feel
something strike my shoulders : it is like an electric shock. Is the
balloon done for? What, already! ....
" It's the poultice," says some one, with an encouraging voice ; but
I had no idea what the said poultice could be ; it certainly was not
quite so soft as soaked bread or linseed meal. This is what had
happened : — A certain quantity of sand had got into the interior of
the balloon before it was inflated ; it was mostly carried in by the
shoes of those persons who went into the envelope to inspect it and
repair any holes that might exist in it and allow the gas to escape.
This sand had got agglomerated into a single mass, which in its fall
had chosen me among the group of travellers in the car, and suddenly
interrupted the flight of my imagination, which would doubtless have
carried me into a region of fog far more dense than that in which
we are now floating along.
The white clouds into which we have risen hide the ground from
sight. We still hear the uproar that accompanied our departure, and
already we must descend. It appears that the price paid for the ad-
mission tickets imposed upon the aeronauts the obligation of coming
down before the night came on. Scarcely have we had time to
admire the scene around the glorious sunset, than the valve-rope is
pulled, and the famous poultice — a species of cement formed of suet
and linseed, which covers the hinges of the valve — is broken away
and the gas let out. The balloon soon sinks with increasing velocity.
Adieu to my dreams of a journey into Spain !
In the first voyage made by the Giant, the rapid descent was
attributed to the weight of the valve-rope, which kept the two edges
of the valve slightly asunder and allowed issue to the gas. This time
no such excuse could be made ; and it was the hand that pulled the rope
that was to blame. Our ascent, then, was only a pretext to descend
again ! If certain learned men are to blame for the indifference they
manifest to aeronauts, what must be said of the balloon speculators
who give such orders as these, and of the aeronauts who execute them I
THE LAST VOYAGES OF THE "GIANT." 241
But I have no right to complain, as aerial hospitality had been
offered to me ; nevertheless, I boil over with indignation. I get a
glimpse of the Bievre whilst dreaming of the Danube; probably we
shall fall on the banks of the former. As it happens, the valve-rope
has been pulled so vigorously and so often that we must do some-
thing to prevent our legs being broken, so rapid is the descent.
"Without waiting for orders I begin to throw out ballast. The first
thing that offers itself is a large packet consisting of some hundreds
of copies of the printed prospectus of a new journal, a Government
organ, whose editor is anxious that we should distribute his advertise-
ment to the whole globe by the aid of the winds. Aquilon and
Boreas are forthwith charged with the commission of announcing
to the French Empire that one more defender of the Government
lias arisen.
Choisy-le-Iioi becomes our Pillars of Hercules, the limit of our
aerial world, for we shall not pass over Montlhery, which we now see
on the horizon. The anchor is thrown out and catches in the
branches of an apple-tree. A large branch of the latter is torn off,
and renders our progress somewhat slower; the open valve continues
to give forth volumes of gas. ... At last our motion ceases, and now
the inside of the car will soon be shown to the public.
Some countrymen run up with an eagerness to help us which is
beyond all praise. These worthy folks imagine that we have been
wrecked, seeing that we have fallen so near to our starting-point. In
a moment they seize the ropes, and fifty stout arms hold down the
Giant. One of our companions requests a man to take his place, ami
jumps out; lie sees the Lonjumeau omnibus passing, runs after it,
catches it, gets in, and will probably be in Paris before the crowd has
left the esplanade ! Having nothing better to do, we follow his
example, carrying off our scientific instruments, which have been
paraded above, but have never been out of their cases. A multitude
of peasants run up and storm the car. Although the balloon is half
empty of gas, it still offers an enormous surface to the wind ; a brisk
puff of air blows it down, and the car, which had rested upon a slope,
turns over at the same time, throwing all the new-comers out pell-mell
one on the top of the other. Our roles are thus changed ; we run now
to help those who came to help us ! In spite of this incident no
enthusiasm is lost, and it would be easy to collect from the bystanders
four times the number of persons that the balloon could carry, were
there any gas left, so eager were they to experience the effects of an
aerial voyage. Such an equipage would certainly not cast anchor in
sight of port !
i;
242 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
SECOND ASCENT.
The Giant was about one month in getting over the effects of this first
excursion. During this time Paris was covered with immense placards
announcing to the astonished inhabitants that a marvellous experi-
ment was about to be made. I had sworn that Montlhery should not
this time be my last mile-post ! Simonin was also to be relied upon.
On the day of the ascent it was nearly four o'clock before enough gas
could be introduced into the envelope to cause the balloon to show
some signs of impatience. It is inflated as much as we dare with
patience allow : its vast dimensions favour the notion that its ascen-
sional power is amply sufficient for a very long journey. The car
contains six persons only, and the learned people who remain behind
on the ground have not favoured us this time with their great copper
ice-house. How secure we feel ; and what hopes !
The balloon is striped like a zebra : long bands of white silk sewn
with black thread go quite round it, and cover some of the wounds
made in the Lonjumeau excursion, producing quite an artistic effect
upon the brown tint of the old veteran. Will the wind carry us to
Prussia, and shall we have a second Hanoverian campaign ? In spite
of our late unfortunate adventure, I am full of enthusiasm, and
approaching the victor of Kbnigsgratz, who happened to be present
at our departure, I ask him if he has any message for his brother
the King. I had reckoned on the weathercock, but without the
balloon, as our readers will soon perceive.
The formal "let go" having been pronounced by M. Camille
d'Artois, the aerostat was found to be very weak indeed ; it appeared
likely to fall to the ground again at once ! A few bags of ballast were
immediately emptied upon the heads of the spectators outside the
reserved places, and produced an excellent effect. The balloon rose
just as it was about to rush into the trees of the esplanade, when we
should have been wrecked on the spot !
The car alone receives the shock ; a few branches are broken off and
carried into the air — a fortunate but costly trophy.
This little incident, which must appear frightful to the spectators
assembled beneath, nevertheless excites the sympathy of the crowd,
and a salvo of applause reaches our ears.
The houses soon become smaller, and the largest palaces appear of
Lilliputian dimensions. As for the Tuileries, it might go into our
pockets. The column on the Place Vendome looks like a pin stuck
I
fc
R 2
THE LAST VOYAGES OF THE " GIANT." 245
head downwards on a cushion ; and as for the obelisk, it may be well
called Cleopatra's needle.
We are not long to enjoy this bird's eye view of the capital, for
the inflection of the silk bands of the envelope points to the fact
that we are descending veiy rapidly. A large quantity of ballast is
thrown out, and hundreds of trade circulars confided, by handfuls,
to the winds.
Light papers, feathers, and small parachutes might be sometimes
used instead of ordinary sand as ballast ; they form a perfect cloud
around us, and mark out, with wonderful precision, the aerial route
along which we travel. When they fly about over our heads, it must
not be imagined that the wind carries them up ; on the contrary,
we are descending more rapidly than they are.
A few more bags of sand, somewhat promptly sacrificed, cause us
to gain a certain amount of ascensional force, and the sheets of
advertisements appear to fall like so much lead. At last we have
triumphed over the loss of gas which rendered our balloon heavier
every moment since we started.
If the open end of the tail were closed with a valve, which would
only be opened in case of danger, our veteran Giant would soon be
enabled to make a long journey and outstrip the little Imperial
balloon, which has risen from the Hippodrome and follows the same
current of air. But this opening remains gaping widely, in spite of
the efforts of M. d'Artois to make its surface smaller. Moreover, it
is fissured, and as the aerostat rises the gas issues from the fissures ;
when we sink, air enters the balloon by them and increases our
weight. The difficulty of remaining some seven or eight hundred
yards above the surface of the ground increases every moment. We
have no more advertisement bills, and our sixty bags of ballast are
reduced to sixteen. Nevertheless our descent continues ; the sixteen
bags of sand are reduced to five, and finally the whole five are bundled
out into the air.
This last achievement has certainly produced some effect; we appear
to stand still for a moment ; but after turning or pirouetting once
or twice upon itself, the balloon sinks through the atmosphere like a
diver who has plunged head foremost into the water.
At this moment we are, according to the barometer, about 1,300
feet high.
The current of air produced by our rapid descent is like that felt
upon a locomotive. The air seems to become solid ; it is not firm
enough to support us, but will soon be strong enough to stifle us.
The silken bands are torn, objects on the ground increase rapidly in
246 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
size, the two grapnels luckily have heen thrown overboard, and the
guide-rope already touches the ground. At last the shock conies. . . .
I leap with all my strength and cling by my hands to the hoops
.... Another shock, less violent than the first, but quite strong
enough. . . . The grapnels hold fast ; we all hang on to the valve-
rope ; the captive balloon empties itself of its gas, and descends slowly
on our heads.
The instruments are all broken ; one of the travellers has his face
covered with blood, another has been wounded by a thermometer, and
a third complains of a pain in the leg.
In less than one minute we have travelled along a vertical line a
distance of some 1,300 feet. As the air could no longer bear our
weight, the brave Giant had extended itself and formed a kind of
parachute. ... A weight of some 7,000 or 8,000 lbs. avoirdupois
had thus fallen to the earth with the speed of an ordinary railway
train, and without any accident that would be remembered three
(lavs afterwards, and all this thanks to the guide-rope.
Whilst the balloon was being emptied I examined the envelope
and discovered two large openings, the edges of which were as neat
as if they had been cut with a hatchet. How were they made ? I
cannot say with certainty, but it appeared most probable that we
owed them to the trees on the esplanade. At least I flatter myself
that such was the case.
We had fallen near the Northern Railway, in the garden of the
College de Juilly, the inmates of which kindly invited us to dinner;
but having met an acquaintance on the ground, we dined together on
some of the provisions in the car. I slept at an excellent hotel, and
next morning was stupid enough to tajce a cab back to Paris. This
wretched machine overturned in a wheel-rut and nearly broke my
bones. However bad my atrial vehicle was, it was certainly preferable
to this horrible concern !
THIRD ASCENT.
(Juytonde Morreau, the first director of the Ecole Poly technique,
plays a great and glorious part in the history of aerial navigation.
He was the author of the first scientific attempt to govern the motion
of balloons ; he organized a body of aeronauts, who in their very first
exploits saved a French army when in a most critical position.
Napoleon I. no more understood balloons than he did the use of
steam as applied to maritime navigation. He treated aeronauts as he
THE LAST VOYAGES OF THE 'GIANT" 247
did Fulton ; so he had no Fleurus aerostats among the baggage of the
Imperial army when the day of Waterloo dawned and his eagle eye
mistook Bliicher for Grouchy.
The day of the 16th August, 1807, is remarkable for the attempt
made in France to renew the existence of the Aeronautic Company
created by Guyton. The Aeronautic Society of France presented the
Parisian public, on that day, with a body of some forty volunteers,
recruited among the members of the learned professions and intel-
ligent artisans.
These young men were dressed in a white blouse, on the breast
of which was embroidered, in red worsted, a small balloon ; and
a similar ornament garnished the caps of the noncommissioned
officers. For three or four hours at a time these volunteers exer-
cised themselves with a captive balloon placed at their disposal,
and doubtless many of them would some day have rivalled our most
renowned aeronauts.
The public soon manifested the desire to take part in these ascents,
and several persons were content to pay four pounds sterling for the
pleasure of a short excursion in the car. Thousands of spectators
used to come and witness their ascents on the esplanade of the
Invalides ; but, alas ! this rising body of aeronauts seems to have
disappeared altogether. Even their balloon has been taken from
them. This balloon was the Imperial; it was to serve as our
estafette in the present instance, and started before us. The captain
of the Imperial, on this occasion, was M. Gabriel Mangin, who had
already made a considerable number of ascents. The proprietors of
the Giant supplied the gas, but the expense was met by the sale of
tickets at 100 francs (4£) each. Moreover, Mangin had been made
to promise that his balloon should descend as soon as the monster
Giant returned to the earth. No one was allowed to remain in the
air longer than the said Giant ; it was quite humiliating enough
to see the Imperial balloon, which was seven times smaller, carry
its three passengers so buoyantly, whilst our enormous balloon
could only carry nine, without alluding to the fact that we were
outstripped ! On no account was the Imperial to stay all night
in the atmosphere, as it was decided that the Giant would go to
bed early.
The aeronauts of the Imperial kept their word, and descended at a
few thousand yards from the point where we descended also.
Formerly it was the custom to make double, and even triple, excur-
sions. Green assures us that he often sent up three balloons at once,
and that they sometimes spread to a considerable distance from each
L'4S TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
other; sometimes, however, this was not the case. On such occasions
the determination of their apparent diameters, when at various heights,
by means of a telescope, would tell us their respective distances. The
inclination of the visual ray to the vertical would give the second
element of a ritdit-amded triangle, the unknown side of which would
express the difference of height ; and these indications might be
confirmed by the observations of the barometer taken in the
balloon. "Whilst indulging in these ideas, I perceive the balloon
which accompanies us, and, forgetting that it is the same current
of air which carries us along, I cannot help thinking we are racing :
for the spirit of rivalry is ever awake or at hand, and always sleeps
with one eye open !
We were nine passengers on board the Giant, two of whom paid a
thousand francs each for their excursion. One of them was a gentle-
man from Marseilles, full of enthusiasm, and so intent upon making
this voyage, that we rather suspected he had determined upon throw-
ing himself out, and we considered the consequences of such an act.
In a small balloon a man less would make a sudden and dangerous
change of weight ; but in an enormous balloon like the Giant the loss
of an individual weighing about 10 st. would only cause a rise of about
800 yards. When Green let Cocking descend in his newly invented
parachute, he nearly met with a fate as disastrous as that of his im-
prudent friend. Though he pulled the valve-rope lustily, he rose at
once into the icy regions, where Zambeccari lost his fingers from the
effects of the cold.
The other individual, if he had been obliged to pay by weight,
would have had to hand over at least two thousand francs. However,
he was an engineer, and did good service in noting the barometer and
thermometer. He had only one fault, that of believing in the forty-
six hours promised him for this excursion by the proprietors of the
Giant. The brothers Louis and Eugene Godard had the management
<if the balloon, and it cost us no less than forty-six bags of ballast to
attain an altitude of 9,840 feet, without counting that which was let
out gradually to keep us at this height as long as possible, and to
prevent the balloon falling with rapidly increasing velocity to the
earth. Such accelerated velocity is a terrible thought in the mind of
an aeronaut; fancy a bird forgetting to open its wings, and coming to
the ground like a stone !
About eight o'clock dinner is thought of; for the pure air of the
higher regions gives us a prodigious appetite. We had chicken as our
fifst and last course, and our plates were newspapers. We had no
champagne : an unwary cork might have shot through the envelope ;
THE LAST VOYAGES OF THE "GIANT" 251
but we had soda-water and Bordeaux, the former of which went off
by itself at these great heights, and shot out its cork as coquettishly
as if it had just left the hands of Widow Clicquot.
At dessert we were rather gay, and our joviality would have
continued somewhat longer had not a most extraordinary phenomenon
occurred just as we were taking our coffee.
The Giant is a very hygrometrical balloon, and ever since its
departure it had been floating in a very damp atmosphere. A
considerable quantity of vapour had condensed upon its siirface,
perhaps some two hundred-weight in all. A little before nine
o'clock the wind carried us into a drier region of the air, where
the moisture which was condensed on the balloon began to evaporate
very rapidly, and, instead of its tendency to sink, the aerostat
remained fixed for a time at this altitude. Soon after this we
noticed that it became more inflated, and its shadow in the clouds
seemed to get further away from us. The barometer showed that
we were about 10,000 feet high, and the temperature, which had
been very mild, got much colder.
The surface of the earth only appeared now and then through
the openings in the clouds which rolled along at a distance of 3,280
feet below our car. Jupiter was shining with singular brilliancy in
spite of the strong moonlight, our satellite being only ten degrees
from the planet. The most conspicuous stars, on the contrary,
shone with a very feeble luminosity, so much so that I could scarcely
distinguish those of the Great Bear. To the west, large black
masses of cloud, lighted up by the moon, floated in the air like
basalt rocks capped with snow and ice.
At this moment one of the travellers, M. Simonin, drew our
attention to a white smoke which appeared to issue from the sides
of the great balloon, something like the steam that issues from the
funnel of a locomotive. " It's the Giant smoking his pipe," said
some one, laughing at the occurrence. But it was no laughing
matter ; this pipe was being smoked over a barrel of gunpowder.
In fact, the gas, which issued in volumes from the neck of the
balloon, was driven out by a sudden dilatation, and was evidence
of a great internal strain that might split the envelope, which,
though formerly so tough, was now like so much tinder. Had the
balloon burst at such a height, we should have been precipitated
1o the earth with a velocity three or four times as great as that
with which we landed in the gardens of the College Juilly ; and
instead of being broken to pieces, we should have all been reduced
to the state of pulp.
252
TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
After the apparition of the smoke, silence reigned among us for a
moment ; we all looked up to see if the escape of the gas, -which had
been suspected for some time past, would play us some unpleasant
trick, and cause us to fall by our own weight ! . . . .
The next morning we took a cut to the nearest railway station,
and left the aeronauts to collect the remains of the balloon. We
were rather disappointed, especially the gentlemen who paid, not
to have passed the night in the air. But an incident which occurred
put us all in good humour again. At the first station at which we
stopped on the way to Paris, we fell in with the aeronauts of the
I uqirrinl, and fraternized with them at the next refreshment-room.
It was a singular sight for the other passengers in the train, to see
aeronauts drinking with aeronauts. But though aerial fraternity is a
great thing, doubtless, upon the earth, it is in the higher regions of
the air that we should be on good terms. My friend Tissandier
and myself have long had the idea of joining two balloons together
by a long rope — and we hope we may yet try the experiment.
1KE1XFAST IN THE CAR OF TIE " GIANT.'
INFLATION OF THE CAPTIVE BALLOON AT THE EXHIBITION.
CHAPTER II.
THE CAPTIVE BALLOON AT THE EXHIBITION. — THE FALLING STAKS.
(W. DK FONVIELLE.)
In spite of its triple failure, the Giant balloon has perhaps rendered
some slight service to the art of aerostation. It might have done
more had it been capable of making excursions of some twenty-four
hours' duration. But several causes impeded its career. The makers
of this balloon thought proper to give it a double envelope ; a system
formerly proposed by General Meusnier. A scientific object was
aimed at by the learned General. He proposed to make the external
envelope rigid and capable of supporting great pressure, such as that
of air forced in by a pump, so that hydrogen gas might be compressed
into the balloon, and the latter caiised to act like the air-bladder
of fishes. But the idea was never practically carried out, and the
unfortunate Meusnier was killed upon the battle-field before he had
time to realize it.
However this may be, the failures themselves have had the effect of
directing attention to this subject, and notwithstanding the indifference
shown by great men to the question of balloons, many people believe
in the possibility of guiding them. Among those who have devoted
considerable time to aerostatics we should mention M. H. Giffard, the
well-known engineer, and inventor of the injector for feeding steam-
254 TEA VELS IN THE ATE.
engines. Twenty years ago, when this gentleman had just left the
Ecole Centrale, he made an ascent from the Hippodrome all alone,
and in an elongated balloon carrying a steam-engine and a screw. He
cei'tainly caused his aerial apparatus to execute certain movements,
but the difficulty of balancing and working the machine was so great
that he did not remain long in the air; his descent was rapid and
perilous, but fortunately without any serious accident.
Though M. Giffard has realized a large fortune, he still takes great
interest in these matters, and turned his attention not long ago to
captive balloons, and made several experiments with them at the
time of the French International Exhibition, when he had a captive
aerostat of some 176,500 cubic feet capacity.
In order to fill this enormous balloon with hydrogen gas, it was
found necessary to use no less than 00,000 lbs. of sulphuric acid,
30,000 lbs. of scrap iron, and an immense quantity of water. The
decomposition of water by red-hot iron was also tried, as had been
done before by Republican aeronauts when chemistry was in its
infancy ; but it was found to be a very laborious operation, though so
simple in appeai'ance.
Among other improvements suggested during these trials was
that of adjusting safety-valves to the neck of the balloon in
place of the wide opening now existing, by which the gas en-
closed in the envelope is being constantly mixed with atmospheric
air. We think this improvement well worthy the attention of
engineers.
The captive balloon at the Exhibition appeared impatient to render
some service to science. Already it indicated the direction of the
wind with marvellous precision. Moreover, the variable tension of
the dynamometer measured equally well the force of the wind, whence
it is easy to calculate its velocity, an element of great meteorological
importance. It would have been interesting to see M. Pasteur
repeat his Rellevue experiments by carrying up his glass balloons in
the captive aerostat; and several other aerial researches suggest them-
selves forcibly to the mind; but the day of captive aerostation has not
yet arrived.
The day on which I made my ascent in the captive balloon I had
the good fortune to meet the well-known M. Jacobi, of St. Petersbiirg,
in the car. He had never made an ascent before, and assured us
that his head was affected when he looked from the top of a high
building, but in the balloon he experienced nothing of the kind.
The first words he said on landing were, "The guiding of balloons
is much nearer to us than is generally thought."
THE " CAPTIVE" AT THE EXHIBITION. 255
A poet has imagined that if the rope of the captive balloon were
to break, the journey of the inmates of the car would be a long one.
He was mistaken ; the voyage would be very short, perhaps too
short to please the excursionists, for the aeronaut who always accom-
panies the visitors would at once pull the valve-rope, and the loss
of gas by this valve, aided by the automatic action of those in the
neck, would soon bring the aerostat to the earth. The loose rope
hanging below would act, to a certain extent, as a guide-rope and
moderate the fall.
We made a nocturnal ascent one evening that will long remain
imprinted on my memory. We were accompanied on this occasion
by several ladies, not one of whom experienced the slightest alarm.
M. Serrin had placed an electric light at the foot of the cable, and
its rays were directed to the balloon by means of a reflector.
Thus illuminated, the Cajrtive appeared like a great meteor in the
air, and the crowd of persons promenading m the Champs Elysees
imagined it to be some strange celestial phenomenon.
For some time past I had cherished the expectation of observing
the interesting phenomenon of falling stars from above the region
of the clouds by means of a balloon. When the aerostat pursues
its silent course through the air on a dark November night, it
must be indeed a most interesting moment to the traveller when
hundreds of these small meteors dart across his path — luminous
atoms, celestial fires, wandering through the immense regions of
the atmosphere.
Having made my wishes known to M. Giffard, he generously
placed at my disposal, in November 1867, a small balloon called the
Stvalloiv, which was then in excellent condition. Its car had never
carried more than two persons, having been formerly used for certain
acrobatic exhibitions of short duration at the Hippodrome, which
the police had thought proper to put a stop to. We therefore
determined to inflate it with hydrogen gas, to render it capable of
making longer journeys.
For this purpose we had recourse to a new apparatus, and the
remainder of this account will show how dangerous it is to count
upon the success of a new process on an emergency like the present,
when time is scarce.
The process in question consisted in decomposing steam by red-
hot charcoal. The chemical reaction which occurs between these
two substances has been long known, but it has not yet been utilized
in the arts. The steam is produced in a kind of boiler heated by a
fire underneath, and passes over charcoal in a state of incandescence.
256 TEA VELS IN THE AIE.
Though two fires are necessary in tins operation, the charcoal and
coal consumed are less costly than the iron, whether the latter be
acted on by sulphuric acid or by steam. But carbonic acid is
produced as well as hydrogen, and has to be absorbed by passing
the gaseous product through lime; often carbonic oxide is produced
also, and is very much more difficult to get rid of. The large amount
of the latter gas produced on this occasion caused a serious and
most inconvenient delay in my ascent to witness the meteoric
stream of November. Had this carbonic oxide not been formed
in such quantities, I should have risen just as the phenomenon in
question was at its maximum of splendour, as it was, I was obliged
to be content with the end of the celestial spectacle.
Before inflating the balloon we wished to ascertain the ascensional
power of the gas we had manufactured, and filled a small balloon
with it, which a workman held in his hand whilst a pair of scales
was being brought. This man unfortunately allowed the gas to get
into his lungs, and swooned. Every one thought he was dead, and
that the gas was poisonous ; and all the workmen immediately ran
out of the place, so that when I returned in the evening with my
meteorological instruments, I found the place entirely deserted ! I
could have wept with rage.
I took a rapid glance at the gaspipe of the establishment, to see
if it were wide enough to inflate the balloon in a short space of time.
I inquired if the aerostat would be taken to the gasworks. I con-
sulted my watch anxiously. The time had fled ; the sky had become
overcast, and the falling stars would at this moment have been at
their maximum. There was nothing to be done, but to hope that
the next night a few scattered meteors might still be seen from the
car of the now useless balloon.
The following day M. Giffard determined to prepare the hydrogen
gas by the ordinary wet method, by means of the apparatus which
he used for his captive balloon. What a pity it is that this ap-
paratus exists no longer at Paris, and that in the whole city there
is not a single spot where a large supply of hydrogen gas can be
obtained at a short notice or on an emergency !
This time the specific gravity of the gas was so low that three
persons instead of two could be accommodated in the car. We took
plenty of provisions, coats and rugs, a fine telescope belonging to
the Commandant Laussedat, a Richard barometer, a metallic thermo-
meter, and a celestial map by Dieu, on which I had marked with
care those regions of the sky which were to be particularly examined
for meteors. All these were heaped pell-mell into the car of the
FROM PARIS TO GUIENNES BY NIGHT. 257
aerostat, which was not very unlike a baker's basket, and scarcely
any larger.
On this occasion the American aeronaut, "Wells, wished to accom-
pany us. He could not speak a word of French, but he caused me to
understand that if we desired to go higher and to get rid of his
weight in the cai", he would descend at once in his parachute, so that
we could soar up towards the meteors. Several newspapers have
announced that Wells was killed near Milan, by the rupture of
his balloon. The fact is that, having cut the rope of his captive
balloon, he ascended with great rapidity, and thus the envelope,
which was old, split up from the effects of the rapid dilatation of
the gas. An enormous opening was thus produced, and the balloon
fell rapidly to the earth ; but Wells, being accustomed to the use
of a parachute, arrived safely on the ground.
We rose punctually, about the time when most people think of
entering their box at the opera ; and now enjoyed the sight of Paris
illuminated beneath our feet by innumerable stars, arranged in a
very different order from that of the heavens. The spectacle was
grander on this occasion than in my previous nocturnal ascents. The
lamps along the quays, more especially, produced an admirable
effect, and those in the streets formed innumerable lines of fire
crossing and recrossing each other in all directions. The tem-
perature was exceedingly mild, and I was obliged to throw off
my overcoat.
At forty minutes past twelve we were able to recognize Enghien,
where I heard my friend Simonin lecture on behalf of the expedition
to the North Pole proposed by Lambert. The receipts were 37fr. 50c,
whilst those at a public ball in the neighbourhood amounted to more
than l,000fr.
At one o'clock our pilot saw one shooting star, which the astro-
nomers on the earth's surface certainly did not see : we were then
1,G00 feet high, and I was beginning to feel the influence of the purer
air of the higher regions.
Night appears to us a very favourable time for making balloon
ascents ; there is no dilatation of the gas by the sun's rays, and the
atmosphere is generally calmer : besides, there are many physical
observations that can be made when there are no shooting stars ;
such, for instance, as the light of the Aurora Borealis, or the zodiacal
light, &c.
After leaving Enghien we approach the Northern Pailway, and the
wind carries us, at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, in the direc-
tion of Chantilly. Whenever we pass over a wood or a coppice we
s
258 TEA VELS IN THE AIR
frighten out the crows and the nightingales. All animals seem to he
frightened at a balloon.
The noises which reach us from the earth are few, hut very varied,
and call up a host of thoughts and recollections which form not one
of the least charms of these nocturnal excursions.
The following notes were made during the voyage : —
We hear a church clock strike one, which proves that we are
getting near to the ground. The barometer stands at 27'95 inches.
2 o'clock. — We hear the cocks crow. The crows seemed frightened
at us, and presently fly off precipitately. The barometer stands at
2921 inches.
2h. 20m. — We hear some peasants call out " There's the balloon ! "
but we cannot make them hear our shouts. It may be that they
answer us, but their words are slow to reach us as we are carried oft*
by the wind. Instead of asking people where we are, it is perhaps
better to rely upon what we can see and what we hear by accident.
The barometer is now at 2910 inches.
2h. 25m. — We hear distinctly the music of a village ball ; it must
be a marriage ball, or every one would be in bed at this hour. The
barometer marks 29-06 inches. The wind is getting stronger, and,
rushing through the woods, produces a noise like that of ocean
waves. We are sailing above an extensive forest. If the wind con-
tinues so strong, we shall be carried over the border into Belgium
by about four o'clock. Heaven alone knows where we shall stop ! We
have not used 20 lbs. of ballast per hour since we started ; we
have therefore enough left for ten hours more at least, without
reckoning upon our seats, bottles, instruments, greatcoats, and the
heat of the sun's rays in the forenoon. We have just demolished
a chicken and a bottle of wine.
The celestial vault as seen from the car of a balloon offers a
peculiar charm to me, which it is quite impossible to describe ; the
spectacle it presents can never be forgotten. On the night of the
14-15th November the moon had passed its full, the shadow had
already spread a little upon the edge which is turned towards the
west, but the high summits of the Cordilleras had not yet quite
sunk into the shadow ; at least so I thought when I examined them
attentively through the telescope of the Commandant Laussedat,
These summits appeared to shine like a chaplet of pearls. Are they
capped by perpetual snow, or are they virgin rocks which no water
has ever moistened? I cannot say what beings may people this
world which our globe appears to have bound to itself; but neither
Fourier nor the whole of the French Academy will ever make me
s 2
FROM PARIS TO GUIENNES BY NIGHT. 261
believe that this is a desert and an inanimate globe which follows
ours in its track through space. Who knows but what the moon
may be peopled by a race of beings more intelligent than ourselves,
and who may some day conquer us as Columbus conquered the
Indians of South America ? Is it true that the moon acts upon our
reason more powerfully than upon the waters of the ocean ? Is it
true that it dissipates human reason and the gay projects of lovers,
as, to-night, it hides from our gaze the trains of the meteors ? No ;
let us banish from our thoughts these relics of superstition, and fear
no longer to contemplate its soft wdiite light !
A light cloud veils the depths of the firmament, but it has nothing
of that coarseness so common to the clouds nearer to the earth's
surface. If large meteors should pass, we cannot fail to see them.
We have economized our ballast, and do not attempt to rise far from
the ground, and so have been able to appreciate the extraordinary
influence exerted by the slightest undulations on the earth's surface
upon the direction and intensity of the wind. An extraordinary
stillness reigns in the valley, whilst the breeze whistles along the
slopes ; and the forests have a no less singular effect upon the
wind.
As we follow the bed of an aerial current which carries us away
from human habitations into deserts and sterile places, we ask our-
selves how it is that we sail away thus from spots beloved by man —
how is it that we see so few lights on our horizon ?
It is because the inhabitants of the provinces over which we soar
have instinctively built their houses and villages in these sheltered
nooks, in spots which are naturally protected from the wind and the
weather. In doing this they were not guided by the dynamic law
which governs the movements of the atmosphere, but by instinct and
experience that has come down to them from father to son for cen-
turies past. Exception must be taken, doubtless, for certain towns
built in exposed situations, for the purposes of war, or to obey the
caprices of some despotic ruler. But these artificial agglomerations
of dwellings are always sad and suffering. Versailles, Madrid, St.
Petersburg, will doubtless be exposed for many years yet to the
scourge of the tempest and the wrath of the winds.
Whilst occupied with these reflections, time passes by rapidly.
We see down below something like vast mirrors spread along the
surface of the ground. They are still pools of water upon the peat
bogs, and the moon reflects in them her silver visage. So damp a
country as this cannot be many miles from the ocean, and effec-
tively we are now sailing over the department of the Somme.
262 TRAVELS /.V THE AIR.
A few shooting stars are seen at this moment. The balloon
revolves again and again, trembles, and shudders. . . . We fancy
Ave see a lire on the horizon.
The wind, which had got calmer during the last few minutes, now
freshens again, and causes the balloon to revolve rapidly on its axis,
to that we cannot, at first, discover in what direction the said light
or fire is seen. At one instant I fancied it was the light of the sun
announced in the east by Venus, in spite of the astronomical data for
the month. The damp has penetrated our network, the cord of which
has sucked it in like a sponge, so that we must throw out a little
more ballast if we wish to compensate for this increase of weight.
If the light seen were really the sun, it would soon rise and drive
back this moisture into the clouds from whence it came, and lighten
our balloon by dilatation; so that we should rise without losing a
grain of sand. But I now perceive that the Great Bear shines out
again, and that the light I noticed is in the west — not to the east-
ward. Moreover, it is not a single, but a double fire. . . . They are
twin lighthouses on the coast. . . . Then we are approaching the sea,
there can be no doubt of it.
The question is, are we in Belgium? Shall we come down? It
will never do to risk a journey over the ocean, though we have
still 120 lbs. of ballast, plenty of rugs and coats, some provisions,
and a bottle of water. Our engineer prepares his knife to cut the
rope that holds up the grapnel and the guide-rope, and tells me to
bear on the valve-rope. I obey his orders most conscientiously,
for we cannot be more than three-quarters of a mile from the coast,
and a minute or two more, with the wind that is blowing, would
perhaps take us light into the Mater.
Scarcely twenty seconds had elajised since I laid hold of the valve-
rope when I felt a shock which formerly 1 should have considered
very violent. The grapnel had fastened itself to the ground, and
the high wind caused our balloon to pitch over on one side, so that
we had to hold ourselves in the car by the ropes. But shortly
afterwards the balloon got free again, and bounded away ....
the loss of gas told upon these hounds .... and soon we placed
our feet on terra firma.
With great precautions I deposit my traps inside the car, and
then we press down the balloon by hanging on the network, after
having unscrewed the valve, so as to get the remainder of the gas
out of the troublesome thing. The gas issues out into the air in
volumes, and we smell its peculiar odour around for some time. At
last the balloon is empty, and we stand round the deserted car,
c
FROM PARIS TO GUIENNES BY NIGHT.
looking each other in the face until one of us exclaims, " Where the
deuce are we ? "
The lighthouses above mentioned, even if they be now extinguished,
could leave no doubt about our being near the coast. Still, we have
no sound of waves breaking against the shore : perhaps the tide is
low. The ground is damp and stiff where we have alighted ; the
fields are covered with small ditches — excellent for allowing the
surface water to escape, and also for giving sprained ankles.
After jumping about over these ditches, first to the right, then to
the left, for upwards of an hour, luck appears to favour us, for we
hear the lowing of a calf! There is some one in the neighbour-
hood, then ; for it is not likely that the wind has carried us so far
from thieves and vagabonds as to have allowed us to descend
from the skies near to a stall where calves low alone, guarded by
Providence !
The cowherd wakes up less easily than his calf. His compre-
hension of what we tell this sleepy Picard is still slower : although
the Treaty of Commerce has put an end to smuggling, he cannot
believe that we are honest folk. It is not astonishing, however, that
he should have kept his door ajar only when he heard us ask " Are
we in France ? " and he replied, closing it almost entirely, " Parbleu !
what a question ! Aren't we in the Pas-de-Calais ? "
However, when he was so far awakened as to hear the rattle of
some franc-pieces in the hand of one of my companions, the brave
cowherd decided upon opening the door wide enough to pass his
hand through ; and when he felt that the coin had changed masters,
he opened it altogether, and volunteered to conduct us to an inn
about two miles off, where we could procure a cart.
On the road we learnt that the lighthouses we had seen were
those of Touquet ; and that the railway station of Etaples was not
far off. The honest cowherd informed us mysteriously that there
was a depot of police there. He also assured us that commerce
was making rapid strides in the port, no less than two ships having
anchored there last year. Under his auspices we were well received
by the host of the inn, whose bright-eyed daughter served us
out a bottle of wine with somewhat of a cider flavour, and asked
us naively whether a balloon sailed on the water or rolled along
the ground.
We find that we are not more than six miles from the forest of
Guiennes, in the midst of whose fine trees rises the monument erected
to Blanchard on the occasion of his first passage over the Straits of
Dover in a balloon.
TRA VELS IN THE AIR.
The honest cowherd now conies and tells us that the horse and
cart are ready, and that we can go and fetch what we want, winking
his eye in an ominous manner to the host as he says it. He appears
to think that we have got something in the Downs which we do
not care to pass through the custom-house, or to show to the Mayor
of Etaples.
After several long windings about, we come finally, at about a
(punter to eight o'clock, to the spot where we left the balloon. The
poor little Swallow is by this time as fiat as a pancake, and we can
scarcely find it. On coming up, a sportsman is contemplating this
new kind of game, and his two dogs have devoured all our provisions,
excepting a small piece of cheese and the end of a sausage.
The host of the inn, who has accompanied us to the spot, cannot
understand the use of the car. He believes that aeronauts travel
in the inside of the envelope, where they are protected alike from
the sun and the wind ; at last I succeed in convincing him that
the car is at least our travelling-box, where we keep our pro-
visions, &c.
In the course of half an hour the balloon and its car are safely
packed into the cart, and at half-past nine we make our triumphal
entrance into the railway station at Etaples.
The various clerks and officials were very polite to us ; but — can
it be believed ? — when we wished to pay for our luggage, there were
no scales large enough in the station to take the weight of the
little balloon. However, it must be weighed or left behind, which
our aeronaut would not hear of. He vowed and declared that the
whole machine weighed exactly 5G0 lbs. ; they would not believe it.
At last an old weighing-machine was discovered at the end of the
station, and the weight of the Swallow without its gas duly regis-
tered ; our aeronaut was only wrong by 4 lbs.
We had a long, dreary ride back to Paris, the counterpart of the
pleasant journey we had had through the atmosphere.
All our instruments were safe, and none of us had received the
slightest scratch, in spite of our rapid descent in a high wind. This
sudden descent must be ascribed to the use of hydrogen instead of
ordinary coal gas. The specific lightness of the former is such that
when the valve-rope is pulled, for every cubic metre of gas which
escapes, the balloon gains more than two pounds in weight, instead of
three-quarters of a pound only. Therefore the increase in weight,
when hydrogen is used, is two or three times as rapid as with street
gas. The latter should therefore be used by those who commence the
art of aerostation, as it is much more easily managed.
'■ A PEASANT SUCCEEDS IN CLIMBING UP TO US."
CHAPTER III.
THE " ENTREPHENANT BALLOON — VOYAGE FROM PARIS TO FEKRIKIJES
(W. DE FONV1ELLE.)
" A good captive balloon, and a photographic apparatus with reversed
objective, constitute the whole of my apparatus," writes M. Nadar.
" No more triangulations," he continues, " based upon a heap of
trigonometrical formulae ; no more of those doubtful instruments
called theodolites, compasses, alidades, graphometers ; no more chains
to be lugged about by surveyors (as if they were galley-slaves)
through cultivated fields, vineyards, and morasses alike !
" I, who all my life have held mathematics and algebra in horror,
can now produce, with the rapidity of thought, plans which are as
faithfully exact as those of Cassini, or as perfect as those in the
cabinet of the Minister of War !
" And, after all, what can be more simple ? My balloon is held
captive at a height, say, of 3,000 feet, over certain points strictly
determined beforehand, and by means of my photographic camera
1 take in at once about a million square yards of surface — let us
say fifty to a hundred acres ; and I can repeat this operation at ten
different stations per diem. This is what I call surveying by photo-
graphy in the true sense of the term ! "
M. Nadar, guided by these sanguine notions, actually patented the
268 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
method all over the civilized world, and even in some barbarous
countries, and at once commenced operations in the neighbourhood
of Paris. But this gigantic surveying expedition, that was to revo-
lutionize the engineering world, ended in taking, from a height of
eighty yards, the little village of Bicetre, composed of a farm, an inn,
and a police station !
The roof of the police station came out very clearly on the proof,
and in the road we have a peasant boy who has stopped his cart to
gaze at the balloon.
We may laugh at this ridiculous attempt, but why should not the
art of Niepce and Daguerre join hands with that of Montgolfier and
Pilatre '. Why should we not map out the heavens in the same
way that M. Nadar surveyed, photographically, Petit-Bicetre ? What
would not astronomy gain if it could get rid of the clouds and dust of
the lower atmosphere ! 1
Could not instantaneous photography be combined also with obser-
vations of this description ? Could not the Earth be photographed
from an enormous altitude, as Warren De la Eue has photographed
the Moon ?
With these ideas in my brain, I determined upon organizing a
photographic expedition in a balloon in order to observe an eclipse
which was to take place on the 23rd of February. It was no easy
matter to find a photographer who would condescend to accompany
me. At last one of moderate ability decided on making the ascent
and his name illustrious, should the expedition prove a success.
We had many things in our favour ; everything was prepared with
the greatest care, and we had passed a great number of evenings
together discussing every detail in the management, with the
exception of the manager, or aerial pilot, to whom we were to
confide our fortunes and chances of discovery. We had vainly
imagined that a little enthusiasm might perhaps penetrate into his
thick head !
I had caused a hole to be made in the floor of the car, in order to
take our bearings easily. But at the moment we ought to have
started a strong wind sprung up, and the professional aeronaut
thought proper not to inflate the balloon. When the eclipse was
over, he informed me that he did think proper to inflate it, as the
1 Professor Piazzi Smyth, Astronomer Royal for Scotland, carried a telescope to
the summit of the Peak of Teneriffe in 1856, and proved by numerous interesting
observations, which he has stated in his little work entitled " Teneriffe : an
Astronomer's Experiment," that celestial phenomena are seen with marvellous dis-
tinctness in a locality so favourably situated. — T. L. P.
FROM PARIS TO FERRIERES. 209
wind had gone down. But night was approaching, and so I decided
to put off the ascent till next day, and then occupy myself with
taking photographs of the earth's surface.
When the balloon was all ready for starting, I declared that the
voyage should be postponed till the morrow; so we had the car loaded
with stones, closed the neck by means of a tight cord, and left it to
Providence till morning, having attached it to four iron bars stuck
into the paved square of the gasworks.
The next morning I rushed along the Rue Aubervilliers, not without
anxiety ; but found the balloon all right, tranquilly balancing itself
to and fro. There was a considerable crowd of spectators about the
place, and a good number had entered the works and surrounded us
closely as we made our preparations for departure. However, they
all behaved very well ; there was only one person among them with
whom we had any difficulty, and that was precisely the aeronaut who
was to accompany me on this occasion.
After having packed my photographer carefully into the car along
with his apparatus, I looked up and perceived an unknown individual
who had got himself entangled in the netting, and had opened as widely
as possible the orifice of the balloon's neck. Every time the balloon
oscillated a flood of gas issued from it. " Hallo!" I exclaimed inwardly,
" if I do not mind what I am about, in a few minutes the balloon will
not be capable of rising at all. ... I look round, and find that the
professional aeronaut who is to accompany us is absent. On inquiry
I find that he has gone for the second time to refresh himself in the
public-house opposite the gasworks. I rush across and lead him
back to his duty. On coming alongside the balloon the aeronaut
tells me that we cannot possibly rise without leaving all our ballast
behind. I jump out of the car and tell him to ascend with the
photographer ; he replies that he can take up the photographer, but
not his heavy apparatus. I then turn to the latter, and ask him
if he will start with me and leave our aeronaut behind.
The photographer had long hesitated before he could decide upon
going up with the aeronaut, but the idea of starting with me alone
caused an exclamation to escape from his lips. Throwing his hands
in the air, he said with the most comical expression imaginable, " Oh
dear, no!" 1 jump into the car a second time, and throw over-
board everything I can lay my hands upon ; then turning to the
aeronaut with my fists clenched and the blood rushing into my
face, I exclaimed, " Let's be off ! " I was in such a passion that
I actually forgot to salute the crowd below who cheered us as we
rose into the air.
270 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
We liad not risen more than a few moments when the aeronaut
informed me that I stood a good chance of falling out of the car,
and advised me to mind what I was doing. The car indeed leaned
terribly on one side. " How is this ? " I exclaimed; " why does this
machine lean thus on one side? "
" Because we carry two anchors, a considerable weight of rope, and
two guide-ropes."
" But this weighs far more than my photographer and his camera :
why on earth do you carry all this useless gear ? "
" We always used to do so on the Giant" replied the aeronaut.
At this moment I heard a sharp crack up above.
" What ! " said I ; " surely you are not opening the valve already ?
As we are in the air, we may as well make a decent ascent." ....
" I do not wish to go beyond the clouds ; the sun will dilate the
gas, and we should rise much too high."
" But I do not wish to come down so soon, either ! "
" I believe I am master here," he replied, with a dry sneer.
" So I perceive." ....
What was to be done ? It would never do to have a quarrel, or
perhaps a fight, up in a balloon ; I therefore remained quiet in spite
of my anger, and observed the curious phenomena that presented
themselves as best I could. What with the bad management of the
professional aeronaut, who first pulled the valve-rope with a jerk, and
then threw out ballast to arrest the rapid descent, and so on alter-
nately several successive times, the balloon bounded up and down
some 200 yards at a time, like a large india-rubber ball, and the
mercury in the barometer jumped about in like manner. These
rapid ups and downs appeared to prevent to a certain extent the
rotation of the balloon ; and I was once enabled to keep the sun,
seen through the mist, for two or three seconds in a fixed position.
We came out of the clouds in about half an hour, leaving them
suspended above our heads. The balloon then sank rapidly and
tinning all the time ; but it never made more than 200 revolutions
in one direction, for the aeronaut found it necessary to throw out
sand to moderate the descent, and as soon as we began to rise
again the rotation occurred in a contrary direction. In looking
through the hole in the floor of the car, I sometimes saw the
ground quite still for the space of a few moments; long enough,
I should imagine, to enable an expert photographer to obtain some
instantaneous proofs.
Finally we approach the ground, and I perceive the trees of a
forest sotting target' and larger. Now, thuuidit J, it will be necessary
FROM PARTS TO COMF1 EG NE. 271
to take care of my neck. However, the forest glides away as we sink
rapidly down and come directly over a morass. " Into a bog ! " I
exclaimed involuntarily. " This is too bad ! " They were the first
words I had pronounced since our late discussion. They seem to
have had a certain effect on the aeronaut, who threw out a little more
ballast. The balloon rose at once about fifty yards, but sank again
almost immediately. The anchor which had been already thrown out
caught in the bough of a tree, and then the aeronaut began to bellow
out for help. I had no words to express what I felt, so remained
quite silent. At last a peasant succeeds in climbing up to us ; as
soon as he is near enough, I request that he will be good enough to
witness the fact that we were caught at the top of a tree with three
bags of ballast yet untouched in the balloon !
The aeronaut slipped down the tree, and by means of a long rope
which he held tightly in his hands, he then pulled the balloon along
like a child's kite to a spot where there were no trees, distant about
200 yards, and where he might have made his descent if he had
been expert in his art.
We finished the day at a public-house, where I decided, whilst
devouring an omelette and certain accessories, that in future I would
be my own aeronaut.
SECOND ASCENT. — FROM PARIS TO COMPIEGNE.
My friend M. Giffard had consented that I should have the sole
management of his fine balloon for this ascent. I kept my word, and
became my own aeronaut, for rage and disappointment had familiar-
ized me with the regions of the air more than twenty consecutive
ascents would have done.
Two young men, the brothers Chavoutier, accompanied me : they
had never made an ascent before, and it was not without some diffi-
culty that the permission of their parents was obtained. Both father
and mother came to see them off, and I rather feared the result of the
final adieu ; so we started rapidly, like an arrow from the bow.
The elder brother was twenty-six years of age, and had already
distinguished himself as a clever architect. The other, a boy of
eighteen, began his balloon exploits in a very creditable manner ; for
he clambered up a vibrating rope ladder, more than twenty feet
long, to untie " the garter of the balloon ; " in other terms, to take
away the cord that ties the neck. This manoeuvre could be avoided
in balloon ascents if the rope which terminates the neck were re-
placed by a very light safety ladder.
272 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
The second ascent of the Entrcjircnant took place on Sunday, 22nd
March, 1868, at a quarter past three in the afternoon, and in presence
of numerous spectators. An easy manner of starting consists in
overloading the car with ballast ; then giving orders to let go, the
passengers throw out a few sacks of ballast, and rise at once. If the
ballast is dealt out gradually, they may rise as slowly as they like.
There was little wind, and the assembled spectators did not lose us
from sight for twenty minutes, during which time we travelled slowly
along in the direction of the Northern Eailway.
My two companions were not allowed much time to admire the
beauty of the landscape, the aspect of which would at once have
driven away any sentiment of fear, had such occurred; for I was cruel
■enough to make them work for me without interruption, renewing
the splices and altering the guide-rope, which I found was too long,
and accordingly divided it into two portions, one 164 feet long,
and the other 295 feet. Whilst this work was being accomplished,
I noted carefully the indications of a Richard barometer, and a series
of Baudin thermometers.
At the time of this ascent, simultaneous observations were made at
La Villette, by M. Dollfus-Ausset, the famed Parisian ice-manufacturer,
who had made balloon ascents before I had, and was kind enough to
witness my first attempts. Doubtless he was anxious to see if one
of my feet would get frostbitten again, as it was when I went up
Mont Eosa with him.
At 4h. 42m. we soared over the forest of Ermenonville, at an
altitude of about 2,300 feet, and heard several reports of guns. "We
learnt afterwards that a boar-hunt was going on there. A bag of
ballast being emptied almost entirely at this moment, we rose to a
height of more than 6,500 feet in less than seven minutes.
At 4h. 49m. we had got through the dense, but not very thick
curtain of cloud, which, since early morning, had hidden the sun from
our fellow-citizens beiow.
An aeronautic astronomer has a right to say of the sun what
Mahomet said of the mountain ; for he can go to it whenever it
refuses to come to him : when once we passed through the dense
layer of cloud, we might have imagined ourselves over the snowy
summits of some of the Swiss mountains. The fixity of the snow-
like peaks of vapour was really very striking. It was not difficult to
imagine that they reposed on solid granite or basalt rock. They
appeared perfectly still, yet all this mass of vapour was moving along
with us in a northerly direction. Their tint was exceedingly brilliant
and dazzling, whilst the sky above was of a tender azure blue, more
FROM PARTS TO COMPIEGNE. 275
beautiful than when seen from the earth on the finest summer clay,
and without the slightest streak of white cloud ; no delicate cirri
clouds floated in the higher regions.
The sun was now sinking in the west, and appeared to me smaller
than when seen from the earth's surface. The heat of its rays was
very notable, for when we had reached the altitude of 7,874 feet it
caused the mercury of a white-bulb thermometer to rise rapidly to
55-4° Fahr., whilst another thermometer kept in the shade of the
car marked only 26°"C.
A strange phenomenon which we observed on this occasion deserves
to be mentioned ; but before alluding to it we cannot insist too
strongly upon the peculiar character of the higher layer of the clouds
below us. Judging from their shape, it would be thought that the
atmosphere offered a certain amount of mechanical resistance to their
onward motion, whilst their lower surface, on the contrary, offered
immense excavations with denticulated edges.
It was into one of these depressions that the Entr&prenant entered,
at 4h. 46m., when we lost sight of the earth, which remained hidden
from us during the remainder of the excursion.
The balloon soon began to swell out under the influence of
the solar rays which heated and dilated the gas through the semi-
transparent envelope.
At this moment we distinctly noticed a whitish smoke floating
above our heads : it was perfectly visible, but not nearly so abundant
as to cause any uneasiness. This young balloon, the Entreprenarit,
did not intend to smoke its pipe as the old Giant had formerly done ;
it is merely a cigarette this time.
Since then, however, we have asked many learned persons their
opinion concerning this phenomenon. Some have mentioned ammonia ;
others have said nothing ; none have replied to our queries in a satis-
factory manner. We believe, at this moment, in the following expla-
nation, which seems so simple as to be almost irresistible : —
Although the gas which fills the balloon is transparent at the
moment of starting, it nevertheless contains a certain amount of
moisture ; in fact, shortly before arriving at the lower surface of the
cloud layer, we have seen the interior of the balloon filled with vapour
condensed into a kind of cloud by the coldness of the atmosphere.
But as soon as the balloon has passed through this layer of cloud
which hides the earth from our sight, it begins to get rid of this
moisture both from the envelope and from the gas, and the latter
becomes again transparent as before. Each time that the elder
Chavoutier pulls the valve-rope, we can see the valve open, and two
t 2
>76 Til A VELS IX THE All?.
small crescents of light allow us to judge of the size of the opening ;
we can guess the moment when tlie caoutchouc springs outside will
bring their valves together with tolerable force, and then we can hear
a dry characteristic crack — a very curious species of small detonation.
But as it gets warmer and warmer the gas is uninterruptedly
dilated, and makes its exit progressively by the orifice of the neck ;
for what goes out of the valve, carefully managed, is not sufficient to
balance the increase of volume produced by the action of the solar
rays. This warm gas that issues in thin streams into the cold
external air (the temperature of which is below />2° Falir.) is natu-
rally subjected to the influence of this cold, and deposits its moisture
as visible vapour. We have then just above our heads a manufactory
of microscopic clouds ; and these little clouds are soon dispersed
into the surrounding atmosphere. But they may be of some use
to us before they disappear entirely, for they mark the course of
the balloon better than any flag could possibly do.
On the undulated surface of the white cloud layer, we see very
distinctly the elegant shadow of the balloon. It follows us rather
obliquely, for the sun is already far from the zenith, it being now
past five o'clock. Our car comes out in black upon this brilliant
white surface, together with our three heads and our two guide-
ropes. If we had the proper apparatus, we might take a photograph
of ourselves.
There is nothing difficult to explain in this ; it is simply due to
the fact that the balloon does not let light pass through it. A
certain quantity of this light, the absence of which causes the black
shadow on the snowy surface of cloud, is absorbed by the balloon.
We might say that it is this portion which lights the pipe of the
Entriprrnnnt. In fact, it has produced the dilatation of the moist gas,
and has been, consequently, the cause of that peculiar white smoke
we noticed above. But besides this portion of light transformed
into heat, there is another portion which has not passed into the
balloon at all, and is not lost in the clouds. The portion of which
we speak is reflected very symmetrically, as it might have been from
a metallic mirror; for M. Giffard, who generally does things well,
oave the balloon a new laver of varnish two or three days before we
started. This reflected beam of light falls upon the layer of clouds
above which we are sailing, but in its path it has taken a most
singular form. I will endeavour to describe it, but will leave its
explanation to those who are cleverer than I am — at least until I
make my next ascent above the clouds.
In the centre of the strange reflected image a black point is very
FROM PAULS TO C0MP1KGNE. 277
distinctly seen : its tint is soft and graduated, and its diameter a
quarter that of the moon. Around this disc we perceive a circle
of rainbow colours, the diameter of which is about sixteen times
greater ; and around this first coloured circle is a second, the
diameter of which is about double that of the first, and also tinted
with the colours of the spectrum.
T made a rough sketch of the phenomenon, just sufficient to permit
our friend M. Albeit Tissandier to execute a chromolithograph of it.
The spectacle was certainly curious enough. On one side of us,
the dark shadow of our aerostat ; on the other, the marvellous reflec-
tion which travelled along with us over the white surface of cloud.
Whilst I was sketching the optical phenomenon in question, we
heard the vigorous notes of a horn, which reached us, I know not
how, through the thick layer of clouds which separated us from the
earth. It wras probably the huntsmen at Ermenonville, who had just
killed their boar and sounded their joyous fanfare. It was a quarter-
past five in the evening.
I had promised my friend M. Giffard to come down about an hour
after sunset ; and, moreover, I had engaged myself to take with me,
under my orders, some person who had been at least once in a balloon.
The latter portion of the promise was rather embarrassing. ... To
satisfy my conscience, I had made the younger Chavoutier get into
the balloon through the neck, whilst the aerostat was being inflated
with common air. He had therefore been at least once in a balloon,
though he had never quitted the ground; and he was in a position
to see the numerous little holes in the envelope, the result of the
preceding voyage from Paris to the forest of Ferrieres.
In order to keep the first portion of my promise, I gave the
necessary number of tugs at the valve-rope to enable me to quit
the delightful spectacle of these higher regions about the time
named. Without these conscientious scruples, which came upon
me when soaring at an altitude of 7,900 feet, Ave should certainly
have floated much longer in the atmosphere, and probably night
would have overtaken us there.
The least experienced aeronaut, if he only preserves his presence
of mind, can moderate with remarkable ease the impetuosity of the
most vigorous balloon sailing in pure sunshine.
The accidents which have been related so often, with their dra-
matic surroundings, are all the results of a want of vigilance, of
prolonged hesitation, or of an inexcusable surprise, the effect of
emotion, causing forgetfulness of the most elementary of physical
laws. In fact, the tension of the gas which fills the internal
278 TEA VELH W THE A III.
capacity of the aerostat is manifested by the respectable degree of
rotundity taken by the silken or linen tissue. The balloon appears
to swell itself with pride at the magnificent spectacle which it shows
to its passengers.
Nothing is easier than to prevent your aerial courser running
away with you, and carrying you off to those glacial heights where
Zambeccari passed the night, and returned to the earth at dawn
most frightfully frostbitten. You have only to raise your eyes in
order to be certain that the open orifice of the neck is open, and will
allow any excess of gas to issue easily.
Knowing by heart all the elementary principles of ballooning, I
have got ready the grapnel, and arranged all the objects that it
might be necessary to throw overboard, according to their respective
value or their brittleness, so that they might be sacrificed one after
the other in the proper order. I had even carried this arrangement
as far as our luggage, in case the rapid motion of the barometer
should give us cause for alarm.
The barometer is indeed the compass on which the eyes of an
aeronaut must be constantly fixed, and his conduct must be governed
by its smallest indications.
On descending, we soon find ourselves lost in the thick fog,
which passes from, us like a flash of dark lightning, and then we
begin to recognize the surface of the earth below us, towards which
the Entreprenarti falls whilst it revolves rapidly on its axis. The
needle of the aneroid moves with accelerated velocity, pointing to
the fact that our descent is somewhat too rapid. I make a sign
to the elder Chavoutier, whom I wish to train to this kind of work,
and he throws out ballast by well-measured handfuls.
Beneath us lies a vast plain which has an hospitable appearance.
I investigate it with my telescope ; it shows none of the shoals
which are known as houses, cottages, churches, castles, which are all
equally detestable to an aeronaut who is descending from the air.
In an instant I believed that we should succeed in landing on
these frank, well-ploughed fields, and I fondly imagine that we
shall step out of our pleasure-boat as easily as from a carriage.
But it is easy to see that a rather fresh breeze is likely to throw
us upon the edge of the neighbouring forest. To avoid the trees,
I must pull lustily at the valve without a moment's hesitation.
I must accelerate the downward motion as much as the diameter
of the valve will permit when open as wide as possible. But
then we might come to the ground with a force I am as yet
unacquainted with. Aerostation being completely ignored by pro-
FROM PARIS TO COMPIEGXE. 279
fessors of algebra, we have no formula which would enable me
to determine the precise intensity of the shock which would be
the consequence of my following out this first inspiration.
We have two guide-ropes which are very thick, and a stout
anchor with a heavy rope attached ; this would, on touching the
ground, diminish our weight by a considerable number of pounds
before our car struck the surface.
But I had promised to be prudent — to make an ascent a la papa.
I hesitate, therefore ; and, changing my plans, I make signs to the
elder Chavoutier to continue to throw out the remainder of the
ballast, and then the other objects in the order arranged. When
the supply of sand is exhausted, he begins with the bottles. I wish,
if possible, to soar over the forest. Supposing that we should get
hooked on the road, the harm would be nought for us, and small
enough for the balloon, if we are clever.
But it is too late to argue .... the grapnel has caught. We
are floating at twenty or thirty yards from the ground — a mere
nothing ! . . . . We are landed, for we have taken root at the top
of an oak-tree. In the course of ten minutes we have descended
from a height of some 8,000 feet without a scratch or a bruise ;
so easy is the management of a balloon ! . . . .
At this moment I was deceived by an optical illusion which
might have had dangerous results, and I call the attention of my
readers to it, in case they may ever be tempted to undertake the
management of an aerostat. Let them never get out of the car
until it is fairly landed upon the soil. Let tbem be perfectly sure
that no solution of continuity exists between the car and the
earth before they think of stepping out of it, for their eyes, accus-
tomed to the immense proportions of things above the clouds, have
lost their power of appreciating dimensions. Objects appear so
small on the earth's surface during a descent, that great trees look
like mere blades of grass. At this moment I believed we had
descended upon heath bushes, and we were at the top of the high
trees. I had actually got one leg out of the car, and was preparing
to leap down ! The two Chavoutiers bellow to the peasants with
all the force their lungs are capable of. I tell them it is useless
to shout in this way, for the balloon is seen from a great distance,
and we shall soon have peasants enough. Elfectively, in the course
of a few moments, a human ants'-nest is moving under our feet.
Fortunately the voyage to Ferrieres had given me a lesson, then
considered involuntary and useless, but now looked upon as
providential. I tell the elder Chavoutier to let himself slide down
280 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
the long rope to which the grapnel is attached, and, as soon as he
touches the ground, to ohey all my orders punctually, lie does
obey them aeronaut ically ; and now he is safely on the ground.
But our tribulations are only beginning ; for it happens that the
balloon has fallen about half-way between two villages, situated
one on each side of the wood; and each of them wishes to claim
us as its own .... Our orders are not understood or misconstrued ;
we are pulled first to this side, then to that, over the tops of
the trees. After being subjected for some minutes to these queer
manoeuvres, I send the younger Chavoutier down by the same
road that his brother had taken, and remain alone in the car,
endeavouring to pass the rope over the high branches.
The balloon begins to lose its ascensional power, and I begin to be
fatigued with my work. I therefore order them to pull down the
balloon in an opening in the wood. I jump out of the car — the
balloon rises — and now I am able to establish some degree of order
in the movements of the ninety peasants who are pulling at the
ropes. After an hour of walking and groping about with the ropes,
the balloon catches again in the branches of the oaks, which are
exceedingly fine trees in this particular locality, and it has no longer
the power to soar above them. If we do not mind what we are
about, we shall have the entire machine firmly fixed at the top of a
tree, whence it will be no easy job to recover it.
"With the assistance of Charles Chavoutier, who makes splices
like an old sailor, I fasten the guide-rope to the hoop of the balloon,
so that the balloon flies up to the extent of this rope and leaves the
car safely lodged in the midst of the branches.
No sooner was the difficult operation completed than I perceive
a ditch, which, according to one of the natives, leads out of the wood
to a plain. Having assured myself that such was really the case,
I get all my men into line, and they pull the balloon away in spite
of the wind. "When they get it to the said plain, I ordered them to
pull it down, and I endeavoured to open the valve by pressing on the
springs, but a little gas only escapes. I take off the india-rubber
from the valve, but no gas issues ; it does not occur to me to apply
a lancet to the envelope, so I fastened the balloon to a stump, thereby
basely imitating what I saw done at Ferrieres by my professional
aeronaut !
As it was late we abandoned the Entrcpraiant and made for the
nearest village, all of us together, when we soon filled the inn. I
called for some wine, .some beer, some cheese, and some ham, and
every one helped himself to what he liked best. I offered a franc
FROM PARIS TO COMPIEGNE. 281
apiece to any of those who would like to touch money that had
come down from the clouds, and several of my brave companions
did me the honour to accept the present ; I enlisted a few volunteers
to assist me next morning, at daybreak, in taking in the balloon.
By daybreak next day I was not awake. The day was far
advanced when we arrived on the little plain where we were to let
the gas out of the balloon. I was not a little surprised to find that
this work had been done in the meantime by the balloon itself;
under the weight of its network it had gone down as flat as a
crown-piece.
All night long the peasants had been running about with lighted
torches, seeking for their children, who had wandered off towards the
spot where we made our descent ; all the children in the district had
played truant, and run off towards the balloon ; and when evening-
came on, these enthusiastic little fellows were far from their homes.
Many of them, in order to get a better sight of us, had plunged into
the wood, the forest of Compiegne, and found it difficult, no doubt,
to tear themselves away from the spectacle presented by our aerostat.
Thus we heard what sort of a night the balloon had passed. The
wind, which had calmed down, as it often does, at sunset, rose again
tempestuously at two o'clock in the morning. The balloon, till then,
had remained quiet upon the grass, but at this moment it began
to describe a wide circle around the stump to which it was attached,
as a centre, and having the guide-rope for its radius. It had gone
round the third of the circumference without accident, but at this
point it met with a prickly bush, and a large hole was imme-
diately torn in the envelope, so that the gas issued rapidly from it.
Luckily no peasant was near with his torch at that moment ; for the
stream of carburetted hydrogen would have taken fire, and we might
have had a repetition of what happened to an American aeronaut,
whose balloon took fire by contact with the lighted pipe of one of
the spectators, and nearly blew up about a hundred lookers-on.
To fold up the tissue was the affair of a moment only : but it
remained for us to discover the car, the grapnel and its rope, jj/h.s
a piece of cable about a hundred and thirty feet long. No one
could tell us what had become of these ; and we had to strike
through the forest, following the track we had taken the previous
evening, which we knew by the broken branches we had left
behind us. To recover the car, we had to take a hatchet and cut
a road for it through the thick broken branches. As for the anchor,
it had stuck so fast to the top of one of the oak-trees, that we
had to climb up to and cut away the branch. It fell to the ground
282 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
from a height of twenty-seven yards, with a loud noise, and sunk in
the earth, but this time we had no difficulty in uprooting it.
THIRD ASCENT. — FROM PAWS TO COURCELLES (lOIKET).
The brothers Chavoutier and I started on Monday, the 13th April,
1868, from the gasworks of La Villette, precisely at four o'clock,
and soared off in a southerly direction. We were propelled by a
north breeze, which, though not very violent, had frozen the persons
who came to help us in our preparations. Thanks to the kindness
of the manager of the gasworks, M. Cury, and his workmen, we
soon got over the difficulty inherent to the inflation of a balloon in
the open air when there is a wind blowing.
When scientific balloon ascents shall have become more general,
it will be difficult to understand how a town like Paris could have
remained so long without any aerostatic station, whence ascents could
be made at any time and in any weather. For the more agitated
the state of the air, the more curious and interesting is the course
taken by the balloon.
The curious observations that we were able to make on this
occasion would have escaped us entirely, had we been obliged to
put off our journey till the morrow — had we. like so many other
aeronauts, waited until the weather was calmer.
Simultaneous observations were made this time also by M. Dollfus
Ausset, and the calculations revised by M. Collomb. We took
up two spirit thermometers : 1 the spirit was coloured red, which
makes the readings much easier, and the degrees were as nearly
as possible three millimetres each in length, though the bulb was
very narrow, so as to give the surrounding temperature imme-
diately. In order to take every possible precaution, these ther-
mometers were sunk into a flat piece of wood, and hung vertically
to one of the ropes of the car. One of these instruments, manu-
factured with the greatest care by M. Baudin, was a wet-bulb
thermometer, for the determination of the hygrometrical sfate of
the atmosphere.
As during the whole of this ascent our temperature was below
freezing-point, this wet-bulb thermometer was almost constantly
surrounded by a thick layer of ice. The cold was, indeed, so
intense, that when drops of water were sprinkled on to the bags
of ballast they solidified into ice immediately. This phenomenon,
1 No spirit thermometer is adapted to the determination of either the temperature
or humidity of the air. ami particularly in a balloon, — Ed.
FROM PARIS TO COURCELLES. 283
which we observed several times in the most unmistakeable manner,
is in contradiction to the notions generally held concerning the
nature of clouds. In fact, we soared amidst vapours which had
not the slightest crystalline appearance. The tint of the cloud which
was in the state of vapour around us, though the temperature was
23° Fahr., was that of the light of a room with windows of ground glass.
None of us experienced that sensation which is usually produced
by the contact of watery vapour with the skin. Moreover, though
we were all three rather lightly clad, we did not experience a
degree of cold at all corresponding to the external temperature as
indicated by the instruments. Our sensations in this respect were
not the least unpleasant until the balloon began to oscillate rather
suddenly. When it rose, we felt the cold strike our shoulders ; when
it sank, we felt it at our feet.
The cold experienced at our feet was really painful, and I dis-
covered accidentally that it was owing principally to a draught.
When stooping to cover my feet in a rug, I found that the wicker-
work of the car was torn along one of the narrow sides, and that
there was an opening there at least a foot and a half long, through
which the air passed abundantly.
Now, who knows, it occurred to us, whether the temperature of
the car of an aerostat in motion is really that of the external air ;
whether it was as cold in the cloud-vapour that surrounded us as
upon the bulbs of our thermometers ; whether Barral and Bixio,
Gay-Lussac and GLiisher, did not create, by their motion through
the atmosphere, the low temperatures which they observed when
they rose rapidly into the higher regions of the air ? A careful
discussion of the movement of our aerostat, and of the temperatures
observed, might, perhaps, lead to some unexpected data in this
respect. However that may be, and whatever explanation we
may be forced to adopt to account for the strange fact, we
believe that we were the first to observe, in an unmistakeable
and continuous manner, so low a temperature in the midst of
watery vapour, not unlike that which escapes from the boiier of a
steam-engine.
During this ascent the clouds presented a most singular aspect.
They were accurately divided into three distinct layers, the lowest
of which was composed of small rounded cumuli, perfectly visible,
and floating at a height of between 1,600 and 2,000 feet, like the
little storm-clouds which we see in summer just below the dense
cloud charged with electricity. The edges of these small rounded
clouds were very sharp and well-defined. They were projected
284 TEA VELS IN THE AIE.
on to the fields below like so much white vapour. To any one
visiting these regions for the first time, they might be mistaken for
smoke coming out of the ground.
Above them was an oily layer of cloud, opaque and homogeneous,
and so thick that during the whole of the day it did not allow a
single ray of sunshine to filter through it. The external surface of
this cloud-layer was splendidly fiat, and of a marvellous snow-like
tint. It differed from that seen in our previous ascent in having no
protuberances, hollows, or valleys of any kind.
Above our heads the firmament was covered with a layer of
vapory cotton-like clouds, rising like an immense cone more than
a thousand yards high. Through the openings in the clouds we saw
the blue colour of the sky beyond, and towards the west a silvery
tint of unrivalled delicacy. The wind, which carried us along
without our perceiving it, brought to our ears the sounds to the
north of us. "We heard the barking of dogs, reports of musketry,
and even the cackling of chickens, so sonorous was the surrounding
atmosphere.
We were not more than 300 feet above the dense level cloud-layer,
for our guide-rope plunged into it by its extremity, and was lost in
it as in an opaque ocean of ivory and alabaster. Its smooth surface
reflected the sound of our voices very distinctly, and an echo appeared
to rise from beneath the car whenever we made the experiment.
Soon we witnessed a majestic phenomenon, which I should have
taken for an optical illusion, had not Tissandier and myself succeeded
in explaining it in our ascent from the Conservatoire des Arts et
Metiers.
It was not without the utmost astonishment that we saw an
immense ring of clouds, the centre of which corresponded with the
projection of our car, opening out beneath us as though it were the
work of some invisible hand. Its radius appeared to be four or five
times the length of our guide-rope. The vertical sides duly projected
produced the effect of a dark halo of 46 degrees reversed upon the
higher surface of the clouds. Above our heads the masses of vapour
hollowed themselves out into a gigantic vault, rendered brilliantly
luminous by the reflection of the sun's rays. It was like a vast
tunnel of compact cloud through which we were sailing along in
silence.
The lower portion, as a whole, was like an immense circular basin,
such as that in the Tuileries, but twenty times as wide and ten times
as deep. The background of this gigantic excavation was perfectly
flat. The edges were like a lining of black rock, especially towards
FROM PARIS TO COURCELLES. 287
the east; but the white snow-like layer which formed the bottom of
the basin, like a plain, covered them in several places, so that the
black rock-like protuberances only appeared here and there to break
the monotonous whiteness of the scene.
Unfortunately our ballast was expended, and we were not able to
contemplate this magnificent spectacle for any length of time. Soon
after this the first, and then the second rope touched the ground ;
we were over a poor, thinly-covered pasture-ground. The valve was
opened, and soon the grapnel struck into the soil.
We only experienced one bump, which was scarcely appreciable,
thanks to the splendid india-rubber ring (invented by M. Giffard)
attached to the hoop of the balloon, and to the grapnel rope. This
acts as a spring and deadens the shock. The anchor was not fixed,
however, in the friable soil, but scored it up splendidly for some
distance, like a plough driven with a speed of some twelve to fifteen
miles an hour, or as the water is ploughed up by the power of a
powerful steam-tug.
The balloon bends over coquettishly in the direction of the river,
which is too far distant, however, to cause us any uneasiness. As the
gas issues from it the wind enters, and we hear the sides clapping
like the sails of a ship against the rigging. The elder Chavoutier has
still hold of the valve-rope, and our aerostat comes gradually down.
It arrives upon the ground at the same moment that we do, and rolls
itself about on the grass like a spoilt child, then suddenly rises up
again, and we of course follow.
Two or three more moderate shocks follow, during which the valve-
rope escapes from the hands of our companion. It is easily got back
again ; but in future, to avoid this circumstance, we shall have it
attached to the hoop.
A man dressed in a white smock-frock approaches, and we request
him to hang on to one of the ropes We spring to the
ground one after the other, and inquire where we are. The little
river above mentioned turns out to be the Lima, a branch of the
Essonne, "which itself falls into the Seine at Corbeil. The nearest
village is Courcelles, a league from Beaune-la-Eollande (Loiret), and
sixty-four miles from Paris by railway.
When the brothers Chavoutier and myself leaped out of the
basket, we found ourselves surrounded by a crowd of country-folks,
who had run to meet us from all sides. The next day, it appeared,
there was to be a fete in the village near which we had descended.
The mayor of the place had been presented with the cross of the
Legion of Honour, — for distinguished municipal services, said the
288 ■ TRA VELS IN THE AIR.
Monitewr, — and all the rural population of the district had assembled
to congratulate him.
Suddenly I felt a hand upon my shoulder, and, turning round, per-
ceived standing near me a garde-champitre, or village police-officer,
and behind him two dogged-looking peasants. It is evidently a
[Rabelaisian quarter of an hour, thought I, that is coming upon us in
the shape of injured proprietors !
An indemnification was claimed for the damage done in the field
by the balloon, and rent for the spot now occupied by the aerostat !
The air of the clouds had rendered me generous, and my first impulse
was to open my purse.
"Say, my friends," I began, "how much will satisfy you?" " All,
sir!" said the sourer-looking of the two; "it is dusk now, and we
cannot see the amount of damage you have done to the saffron."
I was not aware that we had come down into a saffron field, or
rather I believe it was simply a poor description of pasture-ground.
The peasant continued in very crude French to inform us that he
should visit the field with an expert or referee at the break of day,
and take down accurately the amount of damage done. Whereupon
I turned my back to him.
As it was now getting dark, it was necessary to return to the
village. A waggon had been sent for, the balloon was installed
triumphantly thereon, and we were escorted back by two or three
hundred people.
Next morning at nine o'clock I heard a knock at my door. It was
the said garde-champitre, for the second time of asking. lie in-
formed me that the malcontents were below. I went down to them
in rather a bad humour, and found four instead of two. The two
new ones were those through whose field the anchor had passed.
The inquiry had been conducted by a sworn surveyor, a shocking
scoundrel, and the damage was set down at ninety francs plus one
franc for his fee.
"Will you accept forty francs?" I demanded of the plaintiff.
" You are trying to impose upon me, sir ; you know full Well there
is no harm done. Take my offer at once, or I give you the word of
an aeronaut, you will not get a single sou." Thereupon the garde-
champStre was about to give us a little of his official eloquence, but
I begged him to go about his business, and I then cut the discussion
short with the four injured individuals.
When they were gone, the other peasants in the room informed
me that three of these individuals were old rascals who wished to
impose upon me; that, after all, the saffron would grow up again.
FROM PARIS TO OOURCELLES.
28y
One of the complainers wished to accept my offer : 1 learnt that he
was a ruined man, and that to make matters worse, if possible, lie had
just lost his son, taken from him at the last ballot. I could not resist
the desire of acting the part of St. Vincent de Paul, so I had him
called back. He claimed fourteen francs as his share of the damage,
which I paid in my generosity, together with a glass of wine and a
shake of the hand into the bargain.
Whilst I was thus engaged I heard a great uproar outside in the
courtyard, where the balloon was being packed up. It was caused by
the elder Chavoutier, who was holding a lad by the ear, bringing his
head into the room towards me, whilst the body followed in a series
of comical contortions. The young culprit had been discovered in a
barn, with a knife and a piece of the stuff of our balloon in his hands.
It was one of the choral children of M. le Cure. Divine goodness !
To cut up the balloon of my friend Giffard and distribute it about as
relics, would indeed be a curious notion ! Nor could I help laughing
at the idea as I ordered the prisoner to be set at liberty; his departure
from the room was, nevertheless, somewhat accelerated by a stout
kick from one of the peasants.
Some days later, when at Paris, I received a letter from an attorney,
offering his services to defend the plaint which was about to be
brought against me by one of the above-mentioned saffron growers.
I hastened not to reply to it, and so the matter remains to this day.
,
THE VALVE OP THE " ENTREPRENANI " BALLOOX,
CALAIS AS SEEN THROUGH THE CLOUDS FROM THE BALLOON.
CHAPTER IV.
MY d6BUT IN AEROSTATION. — VOYAGE ABOVE THE NORTH SEA.
(O. TISSANDIER.)
The illustrious author of "The Harmonies of Nature" confesses that
he never looked at the clouds without a profound emotion, and that
he took the greatest pleasure in contemplating the thousand modifica-
tions of form undergone by those vast masses of vapour, " so like
groups of mountains rolling one after the other along the azure sky."
Who could, indeed, remain unmoved before the fine spectacle pre-
sented to us by the limpid atmosphere so capriciously intersected
with white vapour, and notice the magnitude of its extent, without
experiencing a desire to become acquainted with the mysteries hidden
in its bosom ? The calm zephyr or the tempest blast, the mild breeze
or the terrible cyclone, offer admirable pictures to the true lover of
Nature; and the air, like the ocean, proves a source of invincible
attraction to the mind.
Whatever may be said by certain pedantic physicists who wish to
ignore balloons, science has much to learn from these aerial voyages.
"It would require a volume," says Lavoisier, "to describe all the
advantages that aerostats can bestow upon society at large;" and
Araiio also took the "reatest interest in balloon ascents. Most of our
ABOVE THE NORTH SEA. 291
learned men understand the scientific service that may be done by
these aerial skiffs, which may truly be termed " floating observatories,"
carrying the philosopher into the midst of the atmosphere, and placing
him in immediate contact with some of the grandest phenomena of
Nature, enabling him, perhaps, to discover the causes and mechanism
of aerial currents.
All honour to the mariner of the atmosphere who shall discover the
Gulf Stream of the air, and shall lay down the foundation of a true
science of meteorology ! In exploring these aerial regions, in sailing
backwards and forwards through this moveable ocean, though he may
not discover, as Christopher Columbus did, a vast new continent, he
may nevertheless enrich the book of modern science with numerous
discoveries.
But besides the scientific interest attached to these excursions,
are we not attracted also by the odd manner of travelling and the
charm of meeting with novel scenes ? If a tourist can clamber
painfully into the glaciers of the Alps in search of new sensa-
tions, could he not do better in carrying his yearning after novelty
into the regions of the clouds ? As for myself, I had never seen
a balloon pass overhead without longing to make an excursion into
the air ! But, alas ! there is a vast distance between the desire and
its accomplishment.
It was the Giant that drew me definitively into what I may
term my aerial calling. I shall never forget the ascent of that
fine aerostat from the Champ de Mars, accompanied by the little
Imperial. I have still before my eyes those two balloons, the one
so large, the other so small, awaiting the signal to rise into the air
and soar through the clouds like an eagle. I still see the Giant
rising majestically as the signal is given : a cloud of sand falls from
the wicker-work car, and the balloon is soon lost to sight in a thick
curtain of vapour. Around me, arms are uplifted on every side,
shouts pierce the air, hearts beat fast, and every one returns home
thinking of the aeronauts.
How many days passed since the glory of M. Nadar and the
moment when, wet to the skin by the rain, I was about to take my
place in the car of the Neptune!
It was a great red placard that awakened all my aerostatic ten-
dencies, quieted after a thousand vain attempts to realize them. It
was the 12th of August, 1868, I was at Calais, when I saw the
said announcement of an ascent (on the occasion of the Emperor's
Fete on the loth) fixed to take place on Sunday, the 16th. This
voyage was to be undertaken by an aeronaut, M. J. Uuruof, of whom
U 2
292 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
I had never before heard. On the same day some regattas were
announced, but they had little interest for me. Not so the balloon
ascent, which I continued to think about all day.
Next morning I made my way early to the Hotel de Dunkerque
and inquired for M. Duruof, when I was ushered into the presence of
a young man, the captain of the said expedition. After a quarter of
an hour's conversation we were the best friends in the world, and lie
was kind enough to offer me a place in the car of his balloon, and
thus enable me to make my first ascent.
I was transported with joy on leaving him ; but how great was my
stupefaction when I found that my friends heard of this intended
ascent with marks of the most profound indifference, and even
regretted to see me engaged in such a miserable adventure. They
informed me that Duruof had already attempted to make an ascent
at Calais, and that he had purposely caused his balloon to burst
just upon starting; that he would not start this time either; and
for the first, but not the last time, I perceived that certain people
were prejudiced.
Some members of my family were also at Calais, and manifested
great uneasiness, reminding me of the danger of an ascent on the sea-
coast between the English Channel and the Northern Ocean. "This
part of the world," they said, "is particularly fatal to balloons and
aeronauts. Pilatre de Eozier lost his life not far from here, and
Deschamps was nearly killed on the same coast ; the wind is always
violent and uncertain along the shore, and it is pure folly on the part
of any one to undertake such an adventure."
Nevertheless I held firm to my resolution, and passed the day of
the 15th in assisting M. Duruof to discover and mend the small
holes in the tissue of our balloon. In the next place I ran to the
Humane Society's office to get some life-belts and floaters ; for I did
not forget that our excursion lay over the seacoast, not far from the
" great basin," as my friend expressed it.
At night I dreamt the most extraordinary dreams about balloons.
1 saw one burst just as it was starting, and every one turning to laugh
at and ridicule me. In another, I find myself soaring rapidly into
the air, and a little later precipitated violently into the waves below ;
in fact, a thousand fantastic images floated in my brain, when I felt
myself shaken by a vigorous hand.
"You must get up, sir; it is half-past five, and you told me to be
sure not to let you sleep any longer."
It was the waiter of the hotel, calling me back to reality. I rose
hastily, and proceeded to the Tlaee d'Armes.
GASTON TISSANDIER.
ABOVE THE NORTH SEA. 295
Duruof and his assistant, Barret, were already there; the Neptune
lay miserably along the ground, and the rain was falling in torrents.
It was a sad, disheartening spectacle, and filled my mind with
confused ideas ; for it might be impossible to inflate tbe balloon.
How could I imagine, indeed, that this muddy tissue lying at our
feet would soon carry us up into the clouds ?
"Do you think," I asked anxiously of Duruof, "that it will be
possible to inflate the balloon in such weather as this ? "
Tbe captain of the Neptune fixed his eyes upon me as he replied :
" I see that you do not know me. I was unfortunate in this very
spot last time : the wind prevented our departure ; but 1 have a
revenge to take, and I do not fear the rain ; we will make our ascent
whatever may happen."
By this time the gaspipe was placed in contact with the Neptune,
and what with lifting up the valve, widening out the net, and moving
the ballast-bags, the head of the balloon began to rise from the
ground. The passers-by stopped to look on, and soon the smile of
incredulity and mockery was replaced by marks of serious atten-
tion. At twelve o'clock the rain ceased, and the aerostat stood
majestically up in the Tlace d'Armes, in presence of the bust of
the Due de Guise, which seemed to look down upon the operations
with astonishment.
The crowd increased rapidly as Duruof attached the car to the
ropes of the hoop. The soldiers who lent a hand at the ropes were
now and then pulled off their feet and suspended like bunches of
grapes in the air, so impatient did the balloon seem to soar up
above. At this moment an English gentleman approached and
examined the tissue of the balloon with great care; then turned
his attention to the ropes of the car and all the accessories, which
he likewise scrutinized most minutely. The sight of this proceeding
terrified me not a little. What if the stranger were to offer a large
sum of money to Duruof to take him up ? I should lose my place,
and my purse could certainly not compete with his ! It was indeed
an anxious moment.
A friend approached me just then, and said : " You appear uneasy ;
are you afraid ? "
"Yes," I replied; " I am very much afraid — of being obliged to
remain on the ground ! "
A small trial balloon was then sent up, and its course followed by
a thousand eyes. In one bound it flew against the bell-tower of the
town-house, then rose again and made directly for the Northern
Ocean. I turn to look at Duruof. He is still calm and resolute.
296 TEA VELS IN THE A IE.
As for the Englishman, he appears to have evaporated. Perhaps
the prospect of a descent into the waves had warned him off.
At four o'clock, Duruof, Barret, and myself get into the car. The
men at the ropes, in obedience to the orders of the captain, draw
us along to the angle of the square which is furthest from the tower
of the town-house, and the " excellent music " mentioned on the
placards begins to make its melodious chords heard
The signal "let go" is given; and here we are, soaring in space
amidst the hurrahs of the astonished crowd of spectators.
What joy for the beginner who feels himself for the first time
carried away by the breeze ! "What emotions he experiences when he
sees the earth fiy away beneath him, the horizon extend itself on all
sides, whilst he contemplates the double panorama of the earth and
the ocean !
When I saw a thousand vapours rising afar off from the bosom
of the waves, and following each other like a legion of spirits, I could
well imagine such clouds to be animated beings, and involuntarily
recalled the celebrated comedy of Aristophanes, in which the clouds
exclaim — " Let us show for some minutes to the sight of man our
face, which changes every instant, and which, nevertheless, will
last to all eternity ! Let us go forth trembling from the bosom
of our father Oceanus ! Let us scale without loss of breath the
snowy summits of the mountains ! Let us remain on these heights
whence we can see no longer our image reflected in the azure mirror
of the seas." ....
How astonishing to find oneself so still in the wicker basket,
floating in the midst of space, without feeling the slightest friction
or the slightest motion !
In one bound the Neptune rises to the crest of the clouds, which
we pass through rapidly ; we are already near 4,000 feet high, and
the sea foams beneath our car. Duruof looks at the compass. " We
are making for the coast of England," he exclaims. But our joy at
this announcement is of short duration. By noticing more care-
fully the motion of the balloon, we find that our direction lies
north-east ; it is towards the middle of the Northern Ocean that
the wind is carrying us.
I turn again to Duruof. His eyes are animated, and he appears
plunged in thought.
"What are we doing?" he murmurs, with visible emotion. "I
said I would follow you anywhere," I replied calmly. " Well ! let
happen what may, we cannot stop. The Calais people won't say I'm
a coward this time ! " I could not help thinking of Deschampa, the
ABOVE THE NORTH SEA. 297
poor aeronaut of whom I had heard, who was placed in circumstances
very similar to ours at Calais itself. To prevent himself soaring
away over the sea, he had opened the valve of his balloon and fallen
heavily on to the shore, when he was nearly killed.
But the splendid panorama which unrolls itself before our eyes is
sufficient to dispel all sense of danger, and we scarcely dream of the
rapidity with which we are being carried out to sea.
To our left we perceive the town of Calais, like a city in miniature
placed upon a Lilliputian shore ; we distinctly see the jetties of the
port, and a cloud of microscopic spectators running along them like
a family of ants. At our feet spreads the transparent sea, like a
vast field of emerald, brilliantly lit up by the solar rays. The
entire scene is separated from us by a legion of fleecy clouds
sailing along in a horizontal plane, and apparently formed at one
side of our horizon to be dispersed at the other. Looking upwards
towards the sky we see other violet-coloured clouds, which appear
to be suspended at a great height in the air, for they are at an
immense distance from us, and we are 5,900 feet high. The
temperature is f»9°-6 Fahr., and we feel very comfortable in our
car, plunged in the undisturbed serenity of cloudland.
I shall never forget this remarkable procession of clouds sailing
along with great rapidity below the car of our balloon. They
were like a quantity of flocks of wool drawn along by some
invisible hand ; they arose in the distance where the sky touched
the sea, so that their whitish cumuli appeared to issue from the
surface of the ocean. How could fear, or any such emotion, find
place in our thoughts when such novel and marvellous scenes were
before us ?
I had scarcely taken my eyes from the clouds when we perceived
a very unexpected phenomenon of mirage, which added to our
astonishment.
"We turned to look for the coast of England, but it was hidden by
an immense veil of leaden-coloured cloud. Eaising our eyes to
discover where this cloud-wall terminated, we perceived above it a
greenish layer like that of the surface of the sea, and soon we
descried upon it a little black point, the size of a walnut-shell.
Fixing our eyes upon it intently, this little moving spot turned out
to be a ship sailing upside down upon an ocean in the sky. In a
few moments a steamer made its appearance — it was the image of
the boat from Calais to Dover, and by the aid of my telescope 1
could distinguish the smoke coming out of the funnel. Then two
or three other vessels came upon the scene, and added to the
298 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
wonders of this magic sea, projected into the air by a fantastic
effect of mirage.
The jetty at Calais is no larger than a lucifer match, but I can
still see the crowd of spectators upon it and those upon the shore,
and I remember that I have friends and relatives anxiously watching
our course. This causes me to reflect upon the unfortunate direction
our balloon is taking. The lighthouse of Gravelines can be faintly
distinguished already. Dunkerque is not far distant. As we sail
over the immense Northern Ocean I feel that our balloon is a mere
grain of sand which the waves would devour in a few instants!
But we now cast our eyes towards the lower clouds, and, to our
utter astonishment, find that they are all moving towards Calais !
Whilst we, at a height of f>,249 feet, are sailing along towards the
north-east, those cumuli which we passed through at the height
of 1,969 feet are travelling in an opposite direction, towards the
south-west. It is therefore evident that if wTe allow the balloon to
sink into this layer of air below, it will carry us over Calais again,
along with those welcome clouds which act as guides towards us,
and point out the way to reach the land.
"We can continue our excursion over the sea," said Duruof;
" we can return to shore again whenever we like."
Thus we allowed ourselves to be carried away, without any
apprehension, by the higher breeze ; for we knew that nearer the
surface of the water the wind was blowing towards the land.
AVhilst we were indidging in the idea of an easy return to the
shore, we saw the crowd of spectators viewing us anxiously from
the coast around Calais.
Some old sailors, we were afterwards told, were looking at us
through their spy-glasses. "Poor fools!" they exclaimed, "they
are lost; what did they want up there? QuaUaicnt-ils fairc duns
1 1 Hi goitre ! "
We had left the port about an hour, and had accomplished
seven leagues over the sea, when we began to think that our
excursion had lasted long enough. We ceased to throw out any
more ballast, and the balloon soon sank towards the ocean's surface.
We passed a second time through the clouds, and came within
400 yards of the water. It is now five o'clock.
We see some boats coming to our rescue, and one of them tacks
straight towards us. However, we soon perceive that we shall
not require their assistance.
The lower breeze wafts us along rapidly above the waves, and
!i:l!iillill!ili:l;l:l!.|ii! :, iv, i illlliJUl,!,1
"
iiill
HI I
ABOVE THE NORTH SEA. 301
Calais gets larger and larger as we approach it : the wind seems
to be bringing us back to the spot whence we started.
In about a quarter of an hour we gain the shore, and the Neptune
soars over Calais amidst the enthusiastic applause of the people
assembled ! Whilst passing over the jetty I looked down at the
spectators, and in the crowd I recognize my brother, who sees me
also and waves his hand. Is it a strange coincidence, or a sympa-
thetic influence, that causes my glance to meet bis among those
of ten thousand others ? The Place d'Armes is again beneath us,
but quite deserted, for every one is on the shore. There is the
bust of the Due de Guise once more, the only figure that does not
raise its head towards us !
The crew of the Neptune cannot contain itself for joy. We all
shake hands, and congratulate ourselves on having made a trip
over the ocean without experiencing the slightest effects of sea-
sickness. A handful of ballast thrown out causes us to ascend a
little, and now we can admire the country which extends below.
I notice the guide-rope which hangs from our car.
" Take care, Duruof," I exclaim ; " the end of our rope seemed to
touch the ground."
" Are you mad ? " he replies ; " we are more than 4,500 feet above
the earth."
Now, our guide-rope was only 430 feet long ; and I fancied I
saw the extremity of it touching the ground ; my eyes had actually
deceived me to the extent of more than 4,000 feet ! This is a
common error to which those who are not accustomed to see things
from a great height in the air are liable.
A little further on I notice some white points moving about
slowly in a field, and seek in vain to discover what they are. By
looking at them through the telescope I find they are cows grazing
peacefully below, and little thinking that they form the object of
a telescopic investigation from the skies.
At 5h. 35m. we come nearer to the earth, and our guide-rope
runs along a field, overturning some small stacks of hay. A few
peasants run towards us, and we ask where we are.
" On the road to Boulogne," they reply.
One of them endeavours to catch at the rope, but as we do not
wish to come down Duruof tells me to throw out some ballast. In
my inexperience I empty an entire sack, or nearly so, and the
consequence is that we rise rapidly to a height of 5,900 feet, and
find ourselves suddenly enveloped in clouds so dense and so opaque
that we can no longer see the balloon, nor scarcely recognize each
302 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
other. We appear to be buoyed up by the thick fog around us,
which produces in my mind a series of vague and strange ideas.
It seems like a dream — our view is arrested suddenly by the dense
heavy mist in which the Neptune is completely hidden and our
wicker car appears quite still. Reflection alone enables us to feel
assured that we are some 6,500 feet above the level of human
passions !
Since early morning, when we had worked hard at the inflation of
the balloon, nothing had passed our lips. We were now hungry ;
so, opening one of the boxes in the car, I took out a bottle of wine
and a chicken, which we ate with a good appetite whilst enveloped
in the mist. I threw one of the bones overboard ; but Duruof
remarked that this was an act of imprudence, for no ballast should
be thrown out without orders. I believed he was joking, but on
consulting the barometer I was bound to admit the fact upon the
clearest evidence. The bone had certainly caused us to rise from
twenty to thirty yards, so delicately is the balloon equipoised in
the air.
The clouds seem to be getting thinner ; they still hide the earth
from sight : we see the sun disappear below the western horizon, red
as a disc of fire. A thousand brilliant rays illuminate the sky, and
throw our shadow upon the distant valley of clouds which spread
around us. They are formed of immense white heaps, no longer
like light vapour, but rather mountains of snow. Dark shades lie
among their mysterious ravines, and give an imposing aspect to the
vast undulations of this fairy world.
Where can we be now ? Has the wind carried us on towards
the interior, or driven us a second time out to sea? It is seven
o'clock.
Our companion Barret draws our attention to a kind of vague
murmur which he hears below the clouds. A continuous and
melodious sound reaches our ears, but it is both menacing and
terrible Can it be the ocean?
By allowing a little gas to escape, we soon sink through the
clouds, and we perceive below, not the earth and green country,
but an immense expanse of sea.
The sun is about to sink into the waves, which he illuminates
with a thousand splendid tints, and Night is about, to spread her
mantle over the dark ocean. . . . How imprudent we have been!
Are we not trying fortune too hard, and soliciting adversity by
ctuuing a second time over the ocean depths from which we have
ABOVE THE NORTH SEA. 305
escaped so miraculously just before ? But it is useless to philoso-
phize ; we must act. . . . The powerful breeze that reigns along the
ground carries us in towards the shore, and it has already saved us
once ! Soon we see a cape, which spreads itself out before us like
a narrow promontory, and becomes wider as we near it. But will
the Neptune reach its side, or will it rush past its extreme point and
carry us on over the vast ocean ?
Night is falling fast, the sky is overcast, and every second of
hesitation may now prove dangerous to us. We were all three
silent during this solemn moment, and kept our eyes fixed upon
the lighthouse which rises on the point of the cape. I shall never
forget those few moments of intense anxiety ; for all depended upon
our reaching the side of the cape, and, in spite of all my efforts, the
idea of a tragical death rose vividly to my thoughts. The sun never
appeared so red to me as it did whilst it sank into the watery grave
that appeared prepared for us. Then my eyes would turn towards
the shore, and imagination called up the figures of many dear friends
with outspread arms to receive us. Then again our glances would
wander over the ocean surface, where a few boats rolled and heaved
upon the foaming waves. The whole panorama imprinted itself
vividly upon my mind, and the monotonous sound of the rolling-
waves filled us with sad presentiments !
Suddenly Duruof allows a cry of joy to escape from his lips ; and
this time there can be no doubt whatever that the wind is really
carrying us xipon the coast. The moment of action has arrived, and
courage animates our crew ! Hope buoys us up and puts an end
to our dreary reflections. Duruof pulls the valve-rope, and the
balloon soon sails nearly upon the surface of the waves. At the
same moment Barret throws the grapnel out, and as soon as we
reach the shore I let go the anchor also. It soon strikes in a sand-
hill, and the Neptune rolls over on its side with the rapidity of
lightning. A flock of sheep grazing at the summit of the grassy
hillock fly off in alarm, whilst the young peasants who are tending
them are likewise seized with fright, and tumble one over the other
in their terror.
Fortunately some men came up to help us, among whom is the
brave Maillard, the sub-guardian of the Gris-Nez lighthouse, who has
already done good service on the coast. He imagines that we have
heard of him, and his feet are bleeding from the effects of his hasty
descent along the rocks. He seizes upon the rope which Duruof
throws to him, and two fishermen imitate his generous enthusiasm. In
x
?>0G TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
spite of this help the Neptune still bounds upwards, and is ready, with
the stiff breeze that blows, to carry us and the men over the hill into
the sea. Buruof perceives the danger, pulls lustily at the valve-rope,
and brings down the balloon upon our heads as the gas escapes.
( )ur veteran companion, who has helped us bravely out of our
difficulties, tells us that he saw us far away over the briny deep, like
a little black pear above the horizon : he watched us through his
telescope, and could not help believing at first that it was a mere
child's balloon he saw ; but when he noticed our movements in the car
below he knew he was mistaken, and imagined tliat, like Blanchard
and Green, we had crossed over the Straits of Dover. In spite of our
safe arrival, the lion-hearted Maillard declared that although he would
not mind risking his life upon a safety raft upon the wide Atlantic
Ocean, he would never ascend in a balloon, were it the finest aerostat
ever constructed.
He also told us that on the other side of the hills, a few hundred
yards from this m&ni-aigv. where we had landed, rises the tomb of
the first aeronaut — that of the illustrious Pilatre de Eozier — who was
smashed to pieces on the rocks here about a century ago.
The next day we visited this celebrated tomb, and I shall never
forget the humble stone that marks the spot where this most
courageous and learned man met so premature a death, carried away
by his enthusiasm for scientific research and love of adventure.
Nhdit came on whilst we undid the network of the Neptune, and
folded up its now inert tissue. A custom-house officer approached
whilst we were thus occupied, and demanded our passports. He
carefully examined the car of the balloon, to see if anything had
been smuggled, and would doubtless have gone into the interior
of the balloon itself if he could have done so, in the hopes of
discovering some forbidden fruit hidden beneath its folds.
I left Lhiruof and the fishermen to finish the work whilst I ran to
the nearest telegraph station and sent off a few words to Calais, to
ease the minds of my relatives and friends by informing them of
our safe arrival. I had only an indifferent lamp to guide my steps
over the rocks, and I should have broken my neck on more than
one occasion had it not been for the good-nature of a fisherman who
accompanied me and pointed out the dangerous spots. I sent off the
telegram and received an answer ; then, rejoining my companions and
the worthy sailors, we all made for the village of Audinghem. across
the downs.
"When we were comfortably installed at the little inn there, we felt
veiv "lad at having returned safely to the earth again, and listened
Bill
x 2
ABOVE THE NORTH SEA.
309
without fear to the gusts of wind outside, and the distant roar of the
sea. "We prolonged our festivities with the fishermen until late at
night, and then retired to rest. Being unable to sleep from the
attacks of certain insects that have no wings, and hence appear to he
doubly vicious towards aeronauts, we all decided upon rising from
our couches at three o'clock in the morning, and taking a stroll among
the rocks in the neighbourhood of Cape Gris-Nez, which are little
known, and well deserve a passing visit. At five o'clock we weie
Z2S5>-
i
DIRECTION OF THE AERIAL CURRENTS ABOVE CALAIS, AUGUST 17, 18fifi.
joined by our last evening companions, and with their assistance we
carted the Neptune to the railway station of Marquise, a distance
of a few leagues only, and in two hours the train carried us back
to Calais.
In this expedition, as I reflected upon it during my journey back
to Paris, we have had the rare good fortune of recognizing the opposite
directions of two currents of air, and of being able to profit by them ;
going out to sea by the one, and being brought back to land again
by the other, in the course of an excursion of some three hours'
310 TILL VELS IN THE A IB.
duration. This points clearly to what might be done by balloons
were we possessed of a thorough knowledge of the direction of
the winds.
In our mind there exists no doubt that the atmosphere is often
divided into various sections, each having a current in a particular
direction, and that an aeronaut, by rising or sinking into them
successively, might direct his course like a bird. Had not night
0-yerfeaken us, we might have confirmed this notion, by repeating
an experiment more than once ; or we might have profited by the
currents, and tacked towards the shores of England, just as a sailing
vessel would do upon the water. There can be no doubt that the
question of aerial currents is one of the greatest importance to
aeronauts. What is known regarding the mechanism of the general
motions of the air '. Scarcely anything. And how can it be other-
wise, when the observations, whether taken at sea or on land, are
all made on the surface of the earth, where a thousand local causes
interfere to render the problem mere complicated than it really is I
"Who can say that aeronauts will not some day discover a true system
of circulation in the atmosphere, with its various veins and arteries,
its regular and periodical currents, and its gulf stream, the course of
which a balloon will be able to follow as surely as a sailing vessel
glides over the surface of the mighty ocean ]
1 111: " NEPTUNE" IX THE I
^mmm
Till-: "NEPTUXE AT : HE CONSEEVATOIRE
C1IA1TEU V
FOKTUNE AND MISFOKTUNE. — VOYAGE FEOM THE CONSERVATOIRE.
(W. DE FONVIELLE AND G. TISSANDIER.)
The next morning, at seven o'clock, I was at Paris. For two nights
I had not closed my eyes, yet I was so much excited by my balloon
adventure that fatigue had no hold upon me. Some friends were
waiting for me at the station, and I had to give; for the hundredth
time, a full account of my excursion. They brought me the Figaro of
the day before, which contained an account of it, but had omitted
to allude to the existence of the two currents of air. I thereupon
set off at once for the office of that journal to correct the said opinion,
and then, in the afternoon, to the Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers,
where I met, at the door, my old friend Fonvielle, whom I had not
seen since we planned out the Bibliothfyue des Merveilles, for which
Ave had each written several volumes. Fonvielle gave me an enthu-
siastic reception, and asked hundreds of questions about my first
balloon exploit. We proceeded to dine together, and whilst at dinner
he wrote an account of the voyage, which appeared next day in the
Libcrte, and endeavoured to convince me that I had made one of the
finest maritime ascents that had ever been undertaken. In fact, he
spoke so much about it, and so eloquently, that at dessert I stood up,
312 TEA VELS IN THE AIR
stretched myself to my full height before a large mirror, and hegan to
think that really I must be made of the stuff of a great aeronaut !
"We spoke much about the scientific use of balloons, the numerous
experiments that might be made in them. De Fonvielle gave some
account of his first attempts, and I, as a chemist, made known the
experiments which I intended to undertake upon the composition of
the air, the nature of atmospheric dust, and the instantaneous crystal-
lization of super- saturated solutions. Finally, we agreed to make an
ascent together and carry out all these views.
Encouraged in our undertaking by General Morin, the director of
the Conservatoire, we decided to start from that establishment, and
Duruof having returned from Calais, the new crew of the Neptune
soon planned out the next excursion. The first tiling to be done
was to borrow instruments to carry out our intended experiments.
M. Richard lent us one of his finest barometers ; M. Tresca, an excel-
lent chronometer made in England, an anemometer, and a psychro-
meter. Besides these we had several thermometers, a compass, and a
telescope. M. L'Hote was kind enough to prepare some ozonometric
papers for us, and in the chemical laboratory of the Union Rationale
I filled some flasks with a super-saturated solution of sulphate of soda,
and some tubes of thin glass with gun-cotton, destined to collect the
dust of the higher regions. A medical gentleman recommended us to
observe the heat of the pulse when high in the air, so we procured
the ingenious little apparatus called a sphygmograph, invented by
our friend Dr. Marey.
It now remained to treat with the gas company for a cheap
supply of carburetted hydrogen, and then to run to the Imperial
Observatory and endeavour to ascertain what kind of weather we
were likely to have. But it was four o'clock, and not a soul at the
Observatory ; moreover, we are to start on Sunday, and no meteor-
ological observations are taken on that day.
No person who has not organized a scientific expedition in a
balloon can have any idea of the number of requisite preparations
and of the time necessary to carry them out. For my part, I had to
run nearly ail over Paris to obtain the information and various pieces
of apparatus which I required.
At last, on Sunday, the 13th September, we were ready to start.
Early in the morning M. Duruof had placed the Neptune on the
lawn of the Conservatoire, and at eight o'clock the gas was turned
into it from a tube connected with the street main. By the time
we had breakfasted the balloon was inflated, but the wind was high
and the aerostat restless. We tried some of our instruments, and I
VOYAGE FROM THE CONSERVATOIRE. 313
counted the pulse of M. de Fonvielle with the little sphygmograph
hefore starting.
The branches of the trees and the roofs of the building
appear dangerously near to the balloon, and inspire a certain
amount of fear. All our apparatus is spread out before the
spectators. The wind is very strong, and causes the balloon to
bound against the trees. AVhat a grotesque and ridiculous affair
if it were to burst or get torn up just as we are about to start !
Some one had been unwise enough to attach a rope from the
equatorial band of the aerostat to a tree. A strong puff of wind
snapped it like a thread, and a hollow sound spread through the
whole machine. It was a moment of intense anxiety to us ! For-
tunately the tissue had resisted ; so we forthwith leap into the
car and throw in our instruments, ballast, and provisions as quickly
as possible. At twenty minutes past twrelve Duruof gives the signal
to let go, and we throw out two bags of ballast precipitately one
after the other. The effect of this is that we rise with enormous
rapidity, and nearly graze the branches of the trees and the lightning
conductor on the roof of the building. In a single bound we rise
to a height of 3,900 feet, and soon lose sight of the Conservatoire
des Arts et Metiers.
The weather was clear, and Paris presented a marvellous spectacle
as we soared rapidly over it. Our instruments were suspended to
the loop of the balloon, and for four consecutive hours we made
our experiments and took our observations as easily as if we had
been in a terrestrial observatory.
We may pass over our barometrical and thermometrical results,
which were taken down every quarter of an hour ; but must never-
theless refer to the fact that an aeronaut is well situated in his
balloon for proving the imperfection of our ordinary thermometers,
which are acted upon much too slowly to be of much service
in the air. Thus we find them rising when we feel a distinct
impression of cold, and in every case their indications are
too slow.
We did not take up a Saussure's hygrometer (which is recognized
to be an imperfect instrument by all physicists)* but a psychrometer
kindly lent to us by General Morin, together with several other
delicate instruments.
One of the scientific objects of our ascent was to collect any
invisible corpuscles that might be found floating at great heights
314 THAVLLS IX THE AIR
in the air. For this purpose we took up some thin "glass tubes
stuffed with gun-cotton, to filter the air as it passed through
them; they were in communication, by means of a caoutchouc
tube, with the neck of a pair of bellows, by which the air was
forced through them. When the gun-cotton is afterwards taken
out of the tubes, it is entirely dissolved by ether, and the residue
examined under a powerful microscope.
This was done when we returned to our laboratory, and the
residue of the filters being duly examined with great care, we
found — must we acknowledge it ? — a few grains of sand and frag-
ments of thread. The residue of our filters was composed, then,
of the debris of our balloon and microscopic fragments of ballast !
We tried another somewhat fantastic experiment. It is known
that super-saturated solutions of sulphate of soda remain liquid and
clear so long as they are enclosed in hermetically sealed tubes, but
that so soon as the point of the tube is broken the whole solution
suddenly crystallizes into a solid mass. What is the cause of this
curious phenomenon ? According to M. Gernez, who has made a
large number of interesting experiments to solve the question, it is
caused by a minute crystal of sulphate of soda, which — we cannot
say wdiy — is always to be found in the air, and, falling into the
solution the moment the tube is opened,' causes its contents to
crystallize at once. The atmosphere, which the ancients looked upon
as void, has become, for our modern chemists, the receptacle of almost
every known substance, mineral, vegetable, and animal. At a height
of 9,843 feet this experiment succeeded just as well as upon the
ground. Must we admit that there are crystals of sulphate of soda
in the atmosphere at such an elevation ? Duruof is much struck
with the experiment, and desires me to explain it to him ; nothing-
would have given me greater pleasure, for then I could have placed
the explanation before my readers also.
In the air we meet with another principle which is not yet per-
fectly known. We allude to ozone, which was discovered some time
ago by Schonbein.
Ozone is said to be a modification of oxygen gas, but in reality its
exact nature is still unknown. Its presence can be detected by the
peculiar action which it has upon certain prepared papers, causing
them to take a blue colour immediately. At the greatest height to
which we rose, ozonometric papers turned blue. But the gas which
issues from the balloon has the same effect upon them ! However,
by observing that common litmus paper remained red at the same
time, we were assured that the balloon gas did not interfere with
VOYAGE FROM THE CONSERVATOIRE. 315
our experiment, and ozone was thus put iu evidence in these
higher regions.
Some day, perhaps, we shall he able to cany up a few plates
of glass covered with glycerine, and to expose them beneath the
November swarm of shooting stars, in order to collect the residue
of these celestial combustions, as l'hipson, in England, really appears
to have done already.
It is generally admitted that balloons participate entirely in the
motion of the aerial current in which they are plunged, but in spite
of this opinion our anemometer gave several indications during the
voyage. It is true that it revolved only at rare intervals and for
a .short period. A precise experiment was made to this effect at
Hi. 26m., when the apparatus showed that we were travelling 4^ feet
per second slower than the current which carried us along. There
was therefore a difference of l'l per cent, between our velocity and
that of the wind. This experiment only succeeded twice during
the whole of the journey. It is prohahle that at these moments
the motion of the air was undergoing some abrupt variation, to
which the balloon had not had time to accustom itself. For, in a
regular stream the balloon and the air have the same speed, and the
aeronaut never feels any horizontal current.
The influence of mountain air upon physiological phenomena has
often been spoken of; but the experiments made under such cir-
cumstances are liable to error. The individual upon whom the
observations are made is usually fatigued by the ascent, and the
data obtained at the earth's surface do not coincide with each other.
The use of the sphygmograph iu studying the pulse of M. de
Fonvielle on the ground before starting and at a height of 7,90U
feet, was very different from what we expected. Generally speaking,
the pulse is quicker at a great height iu the air, because respiration
is more active in a rarefied atmosphere. His pulse, however, was
slower ; and this is no doubt to be explained by the fact that he
was highly excited before our departure, fearing that the wind might
cause some accident to the balloon. Up above, having no cause
whatever of alarm, his pulse had become notably slower ; never-
theless, when the curve described by the little instrument was
shown to some persons who were accustomed to use it, they declared
that it indicated great nervous tension : it is true that in the atmo-
sphere we are surrounded by phenomena that keep our mind con-
stantly active and the senses actively engaged. AVe are, as it were,
in the midst of a kaleidoscope, and cannot sufficiently admire the
wonderfully changing aspects around us.
316 TRAVELS IX THE AIR.
The study of clouds presents numerous points of interest, and the
vapoury masses of the atmosphere offer to the aeronaut the most
surprising and most varied of panoramas. During the whole of our
voyage we had heen suspended, so to speak, in the midst of a vast
arch of cloud, having an apparent diameter of at least 150°. It was
very regular, very uniform, slightly darker towards the east, and
appeared to follow the balloon in its movements. The sky was of
a very pure blue, especially near the zenith, and the earth was
constantly visible beneath our feet, even when we were at our
greatest elevation. The circular appearance of the cloud around
the horizon was similar to that described in the last ascent of the
EiUrcprenant balloon, and which could not then be explained. Then,
as now, we were in the centre of a vast circle, above which was an
elegant vault of clouds, but it hid the earth from sight, and was
thicker and darker in the month of April than at present. The
effect is probably due to the fact that certain clouds are more
transparent than others, and can only be perceived when a certain
thickness of them is viewed at once. Near the zenith this thick-
ness is not sufficient to modify, to any notable extent, the blue
colour of the sky beyond : this blue tint is only extinguished
around the horizon, the line of which forming a circle, the clouds
appear disposed in a ring, of which our balloon constantly forms
the centre and appears to carry the cloud-ring along with it during
the whole time of the excursion.
The drawing which accompanies the text represents this state of
things very faithfully. As the clouds were very much less dense
during this ascent in the month of September than in that of April,
the diameter of the circle was very much greater in this second
instance, and the celestial vault was of a perfect blue tint, and
quite clear, instead of being partly hidden by rounded cumuli. In
order to form a better idea of the phenomenon, let us suppose a
microscopic balloon placed in the interior of a slightly-ground sheet
of glass. On looking up or down from the car, the aeronauts
would not be aware of the medium in which they were plunged,
but on looking out horizontally they would see a thick opaque
circle around them.
When a balloon ascends early in the morning in bright sunshine,
its shadow is very distinctly seen upon the ground, and this shadow
may prove useful in determining certain important points hitherto
scarcely noticed. The motion of the shadow compared to the direc-
tion of the compass-needle gives us very accurately the angle of our
VOYAGE FROM THE CONSERVATOIRE. 319
course. It will also enable us to study the rotatory motion which
so frequently occurs, and thus supply a means of correcting the
oscillations of the needle.
The shadow of the balloon, hitherto so little thought of by aero-
nauts, may also be made tise of to determine the declination of the
sun more precisely than can be done by any meridian instrument ;
it suffices to observe it at mid-day from a spot of which we know
the longitude, the latitude, and the height. Finally, it may serve
to verify the celebrated formula of Laplace for the determination
of altitudes by the barometer; and perhaps the moment is not
far distant when the empirical formulae of the celebrated marquis
will be replaced by those supplied by the balloon. To accomplish
this, it is only necessary to know the diameter of the aerostat, to
measure the apparent diameter of the shadow by means of a tele-
scope, with a reticula moveable around a graduated circle ; a plumb-
line would give the vertical. Thus we should have the length of
the straight line joining the centre of the balloon to that of its
shadow, the value of the angle which this line forms with the
vertical, and to obtain the true height of the balloon we should
only have to resolve the right-angled triangle thus formed.
The graduation of the telescope would be a very simple affair.
It would suffice to place a disc of known diameter at the top
of some high mountain, and to observe from hour to hour the
shadow of this disc upon the ground, by means of a telescope, in
the field of which is placed a moveable vernier. Thus we should
determine the apparent size of the shadow produced by a disc
of known dimensions and known altitude, which would give us
the necessary bases for finding the real distance of the shadow of
the balloon.
Whilst making my notes upon the shadow of the balloon, I took
an opportunity for throwing overboard one of the numerous bottles
which had become a source of inconvenience to us. I saw it fall, and
followed its course with intense interest. Never before had I made
the experiment of gravitating bodies upon so vast a scale, nor could
I conceive that my bottle would take an entire minute to reach the
surface of the earth ! But what is no less extraordinary, as the
bottle participates, during its fall, in the motion of the balloon, it
does not describe a vertical line, and whilst descending towards the
ground it follows the course of the latter. I had let it fall over a
field, but in its downward course it leaves the field and comes directly
over a village. ... If it fell with its terrible velocity upon a house,
it would certainly go straight through it! ... . Luckily it continues
320 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
its course, passes over the village, and falls in a field at some con-
siderable distance.
This reminds us of an anecdote that Arago told of Gay-Lussac and
his wooden chair. "When the latter, in making his memorable ascent
at Paris in 1804, had arrived at the prodigious height of 22,966 feet,
and wished to rise still higher if possible, he got rid of every article
he could dispense with, in order to lighten the balloon. Among the
objects thrown overboard was a common deal chair, which, as luck
would have it, fell in a hedge close to a girl who was tending some
sheep. How great must have been the astonishmeut of the shep-
herdess, as the poet Florian woidd have said, for the sky was clear
and the balloon invisible ; what could she have thought of this chair,
save that it had been sent directly down from Paradise ! This idea
could only be opposed by reference to the very coarse workman-
ship displayed by the chair. "The workmen up above there," said
the incredulous, "cannot possibly be such muffs as that! " The dis-
cussion had arrived at that point when the newspapers published an
account of the voyage undertaken by M. Gay-Lussac, and so put an
end to it by grouping among wTell-kuown natural phenomena what
had until then been looked upon as a miracle.
Our experiments were often interrupted by being obliged to
turn our attention to the management of the balloon. The neck
bends over upon the hoops, and we supposed, not without some
degree of truth, that the sudden snapping of the rope attached
to the equatorial band just before leaving, must have made some
holes in the tissue. In fact the Neptune had rather a singular
appearance, and every now and then began to descend with extra-
ordinary rapidity. Once, indeed, it sank nearly to the ground, and
we were obliged to throw out a considerable amount of ballast to
cause our aerostat to rise again at all. Pour bags of ballast were
thus expended, and formed a perfect rain of sand, which covered us
with dust.
This may appear strange, but it is easily accounted for when we
remember that the balloon, descending with increasing velocity, may
sink much more rapidly than the ballast, so that the latter may fall
upon those who throw it out.
"When we were at a height of 7,900 feet, we experienced a very
curious physical effect, namely, a sensation of penetrating cold
combined with an intolerable degree of heat, caused by the direct
rays of the sun. The following remarks are copied from the notes
taken in the car.
VO YA GE FROM THE < 'ONSER I rA To I HE. 32 1
Hi. 26in. — We make the experiment with the anemometer mentioned
above, and note the echo that conies back to us from the interior of
the balloon when we speak loud.
lh. 30m. — We are in the midst of an extensive fog ; the horizon is
veiled from our sight ; we hear the wind as it blows along the ground ;
the balloon is constantly oscillating. Its shadow is still visible
through the semi-transparent mist. We still hear the wind roaring
along the ground as if there were a storm in the distance. . . .
.We endeavour to ascertain whether the trees are much agitated by
the wind, and inspect them through the telescope ; but they appear
quite still, standing like sentinels on guard. Suddenly we perceive
a cloud of smoke and numerous sparks of fire. What can it be ?
Certainly not a volcano. It is a blast furnace, and we can now
distinguish the men engaged at it, and the mills ; the roaring noise
we heard was produced by the large fan at the forge, and is accom-
panied by the noise of the hammers.
2h. 45m. — We think it is time to refresh ourselves, and we eat some
grapes and a little bread The liquid in the wine and water bottles,
when uncorked, effervesces like so much champagne. The landscape
has changed somewhat abruptly: now we have no longer poor barren
plains, but a rich fresh verdure, numbers of apple-trees, fertile fields,
and brilliant little watercourses sparkling in the sunshine. This must
be Normandy.
3h. 18m.- — The clouds seem inclined to disappear-, a small town is
visible beneath us. By means of our telescope we can discern groups
of persons looking at us, and, though they appear so small, their
attitudes and gestures denote marked surprise.
4h. 30m. — The balloon is revolving . . . We are sinking with very
great rapidity.
Our notes were cut short at this point, for we had no more ballast,
and it was necessary to provide for a safe landing.
The blast was heard rushing through the trees, and a kind of
presentiment came over us that the descent would be a rough one.
We hastened to take every precaution, among others to pack up
our glass objects, our scientific instruments, and our wine and coffee
bottles.
When we had come to within sixty yards or so of the ground, the
guide-rope touched the earth, and Duruof let the grapnel go; but it
ran over the ground with great speed, and took no hold at all.
The anchor when let out met with a similar fate ; it hurried over
the ploughed soil, sticking now and then into the roots, and pro-
v
322 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
during a series of violent joltings which shook us considerably. Our
critical situation then became evident to us. The trees, which
viewed from on high appeared so quiet, were now tossing and bending
their heads before the tempest, and the wind was carrying us along at
a frightful speed. In the midst of all this the valve-rope escaped,
blown out of reach. Duruof climbed up the side of the car to
catch it. At this moment we seemed to be lifted up by a gust of
wind that seemed to rise from the earth beneath us, and I was
busily engaged in stowing away the loose bottles, that might have
injured us seriously in case of bumping, when I heard a sharp
cracking sound, and Duruof immediately cried out, " The balloon
lias burst ! "
It was too true : the Neptune's side was torn open and transformed
suddenly into a bundle of shreds, flattening down upon the opposite
half. Its appearance was now that of a disc surrounded with a
fringe ! We came to the ground immediately. The shock was
awful. Duruof disappeared. I leaped into the hoop, which at that
instant fell upon me, together with the remains of the balloon and
all the contents of the car. All was darkness : I felt myself rolled
along the ground, and wondered if I had lost my sight, or if we
were buried in some hole or cavern. An instant of quiet ensued,
and then the loud voice of Duruof was heard exclaiming, " Now
come from under there, you fellows ! " We hastened to obey the
voice of the commander, and found that the car had turned over
upon us, and shut us in like mice in a trap !
The sun shone forth gloriously again shortly afterwards, and
Nature appeared to smile upon us : though most persons would say
that the wind was blowing strongly, to us it seemed much calmer.
.... A few fragments of the balloon were to be seen floating away
before the breeze. The remains of the balloon itself were flat upon
the ground ; not an atom of gas remained in the envelope. . . . The
first thing we did on looking into each other's faces after this catas-
trophe was to burst into a fit of laughter ! We could not understand
it at all.
Some peasants ran up with anxiety written upon their coun-
tenances, and wide-gaping mouths : they had seen us weathering the
gale, pulling down branches of the trees, bounding over the houses,
and they also saw the balloon split up. They saw us come to the
ground like a lump of lead, and they expected to find our dead
bodies in the car. The hilarity consequent upon this extraordinary
adventure had not subsided when they came up. They helped to
THE BALLOON HAS ir'UST!
Y 2
VOYAGE FROM THE CONSERVATOIRE. 325
look after the wine and other contents of the aerostat, for which we
promised to pay them well.
We Left Duruof to pick up what remained of his Neptune, and went
off to explore the neighbourhood. The anchor- rope, which was still
hanging from the summit of a poplar-tree, helped to explain the
mystery of our sudden contact with the earth. The anchor, after
sliding along the ground for some distance, ran into a pond, and
scraped along the muddy bottom of it ; on rising out on the other
side, it stuck fast in the masonry which enclosed this end of the
pond, and our course was thus suddenly arrested. The neck of the
balloon was driven violently against the network by the wind, so
that the gas could not escape from the interior, and the balloon,
being compressed by the force of the gale, rent open. The wind then
came to our assistance, for the balloon was transformed into a kite :
at about the height of the towers of Notre Dame it blew into the
remaining tissue of the aerostat, and inflated it like the sail of a ship.
But the anchor being fairly fixed, and the rope stretched to its utmost,
we were finally brought to the ground ; the hoop was jerked away
from the car, and the latter turned upside down. Duruof, who was
standing at the edge of the car, was thrown out, and we were shut in
by its turning over upon us.
We found that we had descended at Saint Germain d'Aulnay
(Orne), about eighty-five miles from Paris, near a hospitable farm-
house, the amiable mistress of which invited us to dinner. The
postillion of the village assured us that the wind had been so strong
all day that he had been obliged to drive his coach into a wood to
protect it from the hurricane. This was at the precise moment when
we took it into our heads to come down !
A few days later the Neptune returned home like an old invalid,
covered with wounds. The wind had turned it completely inside out
like an old umbrella. The hoop was broken, the anchor bent, and its
rope, which was 230 feet long when we started, was stretched to 253
feet by the power of the wind.
Duruof would not make use of the india-rubber hoop invented
by M. Giffard: he found it too heavy. Now he thinks better of it;
but the lesson will have cost him about 20/. for repairs. The
Neptune is not dead, however ; and after passing through expert
hands will be again equal to the task of confronting new dangers
and realizing new triumphs.
326 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
OUR MISFORTUNE AT HAVRE.
l)e Fonvielle was very anxious to make a maritime ascent, and we
began now to plan out an excursion across the English Channel.
At Havre the sea is much wider than at Boulogne, but there is less
tear of being carried over the Herman Ocean; and then there was an
International Maritime Exhibition at Havre, which might be the
means of our getting the requisite amount of gas gratuitously. The
time of year was also favourable for making the attempt, or appeared
so to ns. Thereupon Duruof wrote to the mayor, and Fonvielle pub-
lished an article in the Liberty making known our project. The
authorities were very cold upon the subject, objecting that there was
no convenient place for making a balloon ascent; but the article
produced some effect, and the public seemed much interested in so
hazardous an undertaking.
On Thursday, the 24th of September, 1868, I received a visit from
Duruof, who, nothing daunted, had written to the director of the Bull
Ring at Havre, saying that he would make the proposed ascent for
800 francs (32/. sterling). The director telegraphed to him to this
effect : " I accept your proposition for next Sunday, but refuse it for
any later period:'
We should have to make use of the Enireprenant, for the Neptune
was not yet healed of its wounds. AW' ran to Fonvielle, who agreed
to this, and Duruof telegraphed back to Havre to the effect that
the ascent would take place at Havre on the Sunday following, at
two o'clock.
We commissioned Duruof and Charles Chavoutier to make an
inspection of the balloon, and to pack it up at once if they thought
it in a fit state for use. But M. Duruof, having agreed to make the
ascent at any risk, thought he would put off this inspection till the
balloon arrived at Havre. The fact is, he was afraid, he said, to find
the balloon unfit for use. ... A singular mode of reasoning !
On Saturday morning Fonvielle and Ditruof left with the Entre-
jprenant balloon, and at midnight I joined them at Havre. " My dear
friend," said Fonvielle, with a crestfallen countenance, "here are all
our names on the placards, and every one is talking about the ascent
to be made to-morrow. The wind is blowing towards England, but
the balloon is full of microscopic holes, and is not capable of remain-
ing in the air more than an hour !" What was to be done ?
We entei' our hotel and consult together. Duruof is quite done up.
We had made an engag< m< at with the public, and nothing remained
VOYAGE FROM THE CONSERVATOIRE. 327
but to fulfil it. The two brothers Chavoutier arrived by the next
train with a quantity of varnish and oilskin, and at four o'clock in
the morning we set to work to repair the damage sustained by the
veteran balloon. "We must make the ascent at all risks, and as the
time we shall require to reach the coast of England will be at least
four hours, we must economize our weights and take as much ballast
as possible. If needs be, Duruof shall be left behind — he will be
very angry no doubt, but it is not his balloon — and we will take
neither anchor nor guide-rope, if we cannot do otherwise.
Such were the reflections that passed rapidly through our thoughts
whilst Duruof and Chavoutier went off to inflate the balloon at the
Bull Circus. The wind rose about this time and blew in violent gusts.
We took a stroll along the jetty, and found that the wind had changed
since morning ; it was now blowing inwards towards Belgium, so that
we should probably have to make a terrestrial journey after all. But
some sailors told us this was not so ; that the wind blew along the
coast, and that it would certainly carry us over the German Ocean
across the Straits of Dover !
This caused us to reflect, and called up some very unpleasant
thoughts. After breakfast we felt better, and proceeded to the Bull
Ring. The balloon was inflated, but the wind really terrible. The
public flocked in and filled some of the seats of the arena, but the
greater number wTalked about outside, decided upon not euteriug the
circus till the last moment. This was lucky.
We inflated our life-buoys with great care, and placed all our things
near the balloon, the sight of which, fully inflated, inspired us with
new courage. We were about to start.
Suddenly, one of the soldiers who were holding the ropes of the
Eyitreprcnant called our attention to the fact that the wind had split
open the balloon. Duruof seized upon the opening and attempted to
close it ; it was more than a yard in length. The balloon as it bent
over with every violent gust of wind showed the frightful extent of
it. It was found impossible to mend it hastily, and in face of such a
gale. Just then the public began to enter the arena in great numbers.
What was to be done ? The director of the bull-fights saw our
troubles. He recognized the influence of the weather upon the under-
taking, and was kind enough to help us out of our difficulties. " If
you will close the doors," we said, " to prevent any more people
coming in, and will return the money to those inside already, we
will see that they leave the place quietly."
The director having given us cartc-blanche to proceed as we
thought proper, Fonvielle made a speech at one side of the arena.
328
TRAVELS IX THE AIR.
and I at the other. We explained how it was that we had come here,
not for the sake of the money, hut to make an interesting experi-
ment with the balloon ; that the latter had been torn by the violent
wind, and that it was impossible to repair it in such weather, &c.
"We had scarcely finished speaking, when the balloon sank flat
down. Another rent had made its appearance, and all the gas
escaped suddenly. Fortunately for us, the public accepted our
explanations and applauded us. Alexandre Dumas, the novelist,
who was present at our misfortune, shook hands with us and con-
soled us, whilst the mayor congratulated us at not going up in such
gusty weather. In fact, the wind blew so violently that the public
seemed rather to wish the ascent not to be attempted.
TI1K C'A!'TI\K BALLOON 0! PAHIS.
iSffi!
1 El'AKTl'RK FROM IHF. GASWORKS ill' LA VILI.ETTK.
CHAI'TEI! VI.
SNOW AND SUNSET. — ASCENT OF THE " DNION."
(G. T1SSAXDIER.)
Fonvielle was in London, and thinking about an ascent which we
■were to make in an immense balloon of some 353,000 cubic feet
capacity, which M. Henri Giffard offered, with his usual liberality,
to place at our disposal. Whilst my companion was holding long-
intercourse with Mr. Glaisher and with Mr. Green, the celebrated
English aeronaut, I thought I would attempt another aerial excur-
sion myself. My brother, who was engaged to execute some of the
drawings for this volume, would lose nothing, I thought, by a journey
into the clouds he was called upon to depict.
A few days before starting I received a letter from Fonvielle, in
which he informed me that he had seen Green, and had had a long
intercourse with him. He had discovered his elegant little house,
Aerial Villa, at Upper Holloway, pleasantly situated on a hill,
among groups of houses and trees. He knocked at the door of
the veteran aeronaut, and was very cordially received by the old
man. He took my companion into the dining-room ; and whilst
they were discussing a glass of wine, he pointed to a well-filled
portfolio in the corner of the room. " That contains," he said, " the
330 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
account of all my aerial travels, all the articles that have been
published, and all the letters written to me upon the subject. I
will not ask you to read these documents," he continued, " for it
would require an entire lifetime to peruse them and to put them
in order. They are numerous, for my ascents have been numerous.
I have made more than six thousand aerial excursions. I have
crossed the English Channel three times ; and I have had as many
as seven hundred persons in the car of my balloon at different
times, among whom I could mention some very distinguished
names, and one hundred and twenty ladies. The ladies have
always shown great courage in this respect. If you wish balloons
to become popular in Fiance, — believe in the experience of an
old man, an ancient mariner of the atmosphere, — begin by taking
women in your balloons ; men will be sure to follow."
Green then took Fonvielle to the end of a narrow court, and
quietly opened the door of an outhouse. Inside was the cele-
brated Nassau balloon, the hero of so many exploits. The old
aeronaut was quite overcome when he stood before this splendid
aerostat that had so often carried him through the air. " Here is
my car," he said, touching it with a kind of solemn respect, " which,
like its old pilot, now reposes quietly after a long and active career.
Here is the guide-rope which I imagined in former years, and which
ever since, as you know, has been found very useful to aeronauts.
And there," he added, " is the tissue of the Nassau itself ; — poor
old balloon, I love it like a child. I have made thirty ascents
with it, and have travelled in it from London to the heart of
Germany."
" How happy you ought to be," he continued, " to be able to
carry on scientific and artistic researches in the air. I would like
to have done so too, but I could not follow my own plans ; I was
an aeronaut by profession, and had to gain my bread by it — -
want of money prevented me from carrying out the numerous
experiments that suggested themselves to me. Now my life has
passed and my time is gone by, but let me shake you by the
hand and wish you sincerely every success. In the atmosphere
there is much to be discovered ! Though my hair is white, and
my body too weak to help you, I can still give you my advice,
and you have my hearty wishes for your future."
Whilst pronouncing these words, Green shook Fonvielle cordially
by the hand, and the latter fancied he saw a large round tear
standing in the bright eye of the celebrated old man. It was only
at a late hour of the night that Green would consent to interrupt
ASCENT OF THE " UNION." 333
this conversation that led him back to forty years ago, and reminded
him of his daring adventures.
The sky was very misty on the morning of Sunday, the 8th of
November, 1868. I had fixed that day for making my ascent, and
I did not wish to postpone it with a chance of having less favourable
weather. Early in the morning, the aeronaut, Gabriel Mangin, in-
flated the Union balloon with his usual expertness.
At eleven o'clock the aerostat was balancing itself gracefully in
the breeze ; my brother and myself took our seats in the car together
with our new captain, and a photographer who had come forward
with his camera demanded permission to take a proof of us. I
grouped the spectators around the balloon, and kept my companions
quiet in the car, and in spite of the darkness of the morning the
photographic artist succeeded in obtaining a good plate, from which
the drawing at the head of this chapter was made.
We were all three in the car, and about to give orders to let go,
when M. Cury, the director of the gasworks, ran up to us with a
telegram from M. de Fonvielle in London. He knew we should
be on the point of making an ascent, and thought he would send
us the opinion of the Greenwich astronomers on the state of the
weather we might expect. The text ran as follows : —
"General N.W current. Europe covered with thick clouds. Eor/g//
vcathcr. Snow probable"
I had scarcely read the telegram when a few flakes of snow began
to fall, and thus confirmed the above prediction, for which we have
to thank our colleague Glaisher.
"We rise slowly amidst the snow, which is falling abundantly, and
we can scarcely see the ground any longer. ... In the distance we
recognize the gasometers from which we started, and the groups of
friends saluting us by waving their hands can be discerned with
some difficulty through the white flakes falling around us. We
were informed, later, that the balloon presented a curious appearance
as it rose. It seemed to draw the snow towards it, and to fix the
flakes which struck its surface ; it soon appeared surrounded by
an aureola of vivid whiteness ; we looked like an immense icicle
floating among the moving snow-flakes.
The layer of solid water thus poured upon the balloon caused
us to gain weight considerably, and we could only rise by throwing
out several bagfuls of ballast. By this means we finally attained
an altitude of 5,900 feet, and find ourselves present at the admirable
334 TRA VELS TX THE AIT!.
spectacle of the formation of snow. Just now large Hakes danced
around the car in a thousand irregular curves, and sported in the
wind; now we have brilliant, almost iridescent, crystalline plates,
which are mutually attracted and increase in volume whilst we
watch them, growing considerably larger before they are many
hundred yards below the car. Above our heads the cloud is less
dense, more transparent, and we believe that the region of sunshine
is not far off. But our aerostat with its covering of ice is not
capable of rising into this region. The temperature is not very low,
for the thermometer only reads 30°'2 Fahr.
I have taken several instruments with me, among others a
psychrometer, which tells me that the air is not at all damp ; but
T regret that I have no microscope to examine the crystals of snow
that fall upon my coat. But who would dream that such an instru-
ment could ever be required in a balloon ? To-day I would willingly,
exchange my telescope for an ordinary pocket-lens.
12 o'clock. — We have decided upon losing some ballast, and in
spite of the snow we still rise. I would like to drive the balloon
through the light fog that separates us from the solar rays. In seven
minutes we have only risen 650 feet; it is a painfully slow ascent, but
how can we overcome the weight of snow carried on the shoulders of
our courier? All that we can do is get beyond the limit of 6,500
feet. The particles of ice ai*e very fine — an endless number of micro-
scopic crystalline needles. One more effort and we shall see the
sun ; we have enough ballast to enable us to rise into the sunshine
through the last strata of mist.
12h. 15m.— We hold a consultation and come unanimously to
the conclusion that we must not dream of rising any higher. To
get beyond the last strata of vapour we should have to exhaust
our forces ; that is, to expend the last atom of ballast upon which
our safety depends. If we were unfortunate enough to plunge our
aerial chariot into the solar beams which shine above us, the heavy
layer of snow on the surface of the balloon would melt at once,
and, thus lightened, we should be carried up into the highest regions
of the air. After admiring the scene for some time, we should be
called back again towards the earth by that invisible power called
gravitation, and on descending our balloon would certainly accumulate
a fresh supply of snow, and so descend with great rapidity, during
which time we should have no ballast to throw out,- and to save us
from falling to the ground with a fearful shock. We conclude, then.
that to soar higher at present would be far from prudent.
wM ^
ASCENT OF THE " UNION.1' 337
12k. 25m. — We can distinctly hear human voices and the rolling of
a carriage Never before have terrestrial sounds reached my
ear when at such an altitude (5,900 feet).
12h. 45m. — We have sunk somewhat rapidly to an altitude of only
3,280 feet above the ground, and here we are again among the same
flakes of snow, rather more numerous than before, and dancing around
us in all directions. According to the psychrometer, the air still
appears nearly dry.
The balloon seems for a moment to have come to a standstill, but
we find it necessary to continue to pour out small quantities of sand.
The snow is falling thicker than ever. How do these mysterious
crystals form in an air so mild ? By what marvellous mechanism
does Nature shape these angular forms that are constantly created
before our eyes ? Are the invisible atoms of vapour drawn together
by the same foi'ce which causes planetary worlds to gravitate in
space ? Are we not witnessing the formation of an endless number
of corpuscular worlds modelled by Divine art ?
At this moment our descent becomes rapid, and puts a stop to my
philosophical reflections. Mangin also brings me back to stern reality,
by exclaiming that there is scarcely one more bag of ballast left. The
earth comes in sight rather suddenly, but the snow is so thick that it
hides us from some peasants that we see upon the road below us, and
to whom we call lustily for help. They turn and look behind them on
hearing our shouts, but none of them think of looking up into the air.
Our guide-rope soon touches the ground, and the car of the Union is
abruptly thrown into the middle of a field. I let go the anchor,
which takes firm hold in the soil, whilst Mangin opens the valve, but
closes it again immediately when he finds that one rope holds fast.
Some peasants run up and tell us that we have descended at
Chennevieres-sur-Marne. . . . Our course has not been very rapid, for
we left Paris an hour and a half ago. As it is not late, I do not wish
to let out the gas, believing that the snow collected on the balloon
will soon melt away and render it lighter. The weather seems to
be getting clearer ; and if the sun came out, it would soon dry the
envelope completely, and enable us to make a second ascent.
Several persons of the district approach us, and among them
M. Kouze, who, with his two sons, had run some distance after our
guide-rope. I accept his kind invitation to lunch ; but I do not like
to abandon the balloon, fearing that it might run away in our
absence, as it was getting lighter every minute.
" Never mind that," said our hospitable host ; " you shall be carried
to the door of my house."
z
3:(8 TRAVELS IN THE A I J!.
This was no sooner said than done : a few vigorous arms lift up
the car, in which we remain quietly seated, and carry us triumph-
antly across the fields to the road, and thence to the door of the
house. Here we fill the car with large stones, and leave the balloon
in charge of two honest peasants, with strict orders uot to allow any
smoking near it. " By lighting a pipe near the balloon," I told
them, "you will all be blown up into the air!"
M. liouze conducts us into his charming villa, and introduces
us to his amiable friends. The snow had given us a keen appetite,
and we did honour to the feast. I could not help laughing at the
thought that our friends in Paris imagined us, doubtless, freezing
ourselves in the higher regions all this time.
After dinner 1 turned to our benevolent host, and said that, as
he had witnessed a landing, perhaps he would like to see an
ascent ; and as I thought of leaving by the same road which
brought us, he would be able to see one rather sooner, perhaps,
than he expected.
The company present could scarcely believe it possible ; but
Mangin asserted that it was so, and on leaving the table we all
made off for the balloon.
Our two sentinels had done their duty well. I shook hands
with our hospitable friends and entered the car, together with
Mangin and my brother, after having taken out all the stones one
by one. But, alas! the aerostat would not move; we were still
too heavy, and it would not rise at all.
The sun had appeared, and the air was calm. Mangin decided on
leaving the guide-rope behind; it was rather heavy. The hallo* m
certainly made an effort to move, but still it would not rise. AYe
were several pounds too heavy, and regretted, rather too late, that
we had breakfasted so heartily.
However, it was absolutely necessary, after what we had said, to
make a start, and I was selfish enough to propose that my brother
should be left out ; but he would not hear of it.
Then 1 turned to our pilot, and endeavoured to make him believe
that we could start without him. But he would not hear of it either !
All this amused the company present not a little ; they could not
help laughing, but we thought it no joke.
An entire hour was spent manoeuvring with the lazy aerostat ;
at last I decided on leaving my instruments on the ground, keeping
only a thermometer and a barometer in the car. We also got rid
of our heavy overcoats, rugs, &c. ; I replaced the heavy anchor
rope by a much lighter cord, and I threw out all the empty ballast
z 2
ASCENT OF THE " UNION." 341
Lags. I believe that I would rather have left the car itself behind
than not make the ascent; we could have gone up sitting in the
hoop ! However, what we had already done, together with the
warmth of the sun's rays, that now dilated the gas a little, gave
a certain amount of life to the balloon. ... It is actually ready
to start ! We call to our friends to let go the ropes, and in one
bound we pass through the thick layer of cloud, and float above it
into the warm rays of the afternoon sun. The envelope of the
balloon is cpuite dry .... it is three o'clock only, and we have a
fine excursion beiore us.
We rise higher and higher, without touching our only bag of
ballast The temperature is lower ; it is now 2G°'G Fahr., and
we are 9,800 feet high.
The clouds illuminated by the sun are of a strange tint ; they are
of a violet rose colour, and spread in elegant forms along our horizon.
But this is only the prelude to the magnificent spectacle of sunset
which is approaching
Soon the sun disappears behind a curtain of cloud that hides its
magic splendour, but from behind this dark veil of purple a thousand
golden rays shoot forth and dazzle the eye. They all appear to
emanate from a central point, which, though invisible, can be easily
traced to its proper place. No poet has ever dreamed of such a
brilliantly radiating spectacle, nor imagined such dazzling lines of
fire We rise to an altitude of 12,."J00 feet in the midst of this
splendour, whilst absolute stillness reigns throughout Nature, and it
is the hour of twilight ! What a sublime harmony of colours, light,
and silence !
Thus suspended in the infinite realms of space, we cannot
sufficiently admire, nor contemplate without considerable emotion,
the last glorious rays of the setting sun, and the splendour of
the clouds as they receive its celestial^ illuminations.
It is with a sort of ecstasy that we turn our eyes towards the
earth, now only visible through the semi-transparent mist, masked,
as it were, by a veil of rosy muslin. The river Marne winds across
the country, and a long ribbon of vapour exhales from its blue
waters. Further on is an aqueduct, the only vestige of human art
in the whole glorious landscape. And what a wonderful effect is
that produced by the microscopic country below, before which the
mind expands whilst we contemplate it with mute astonishment !
Never before had I been so surprised by the gradual changes of tint
undergone by the masses of cloud whilst the sun sank slowly below
the western horizon ; the more vivid colours die out, ami are sue-
342 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
ceeclecl by rich purple tints, fringing the borders of the vapour
mountains, whilst the sky above is dark indigo blue, and the earth
puts on the green tint of a pale emerald. The Maine has a rosy hue,
like that of the petals of newly-budded flowers, and our balloon
follows its silent course amidst all these marvellous displays of
colour, belonging neither to the earth nor the sky, but soaring
between these two brilliantly illuminated hemispheres.
Gradually this harmonious glory of colours diminishes, the clouds
pass from that rich violet tint to a cold, grey hue, whilst the
country below takes a veil of opaque drapery, becoming darker
and darker until it appears like crape instead of muslin. The sun
is about to disappear, whilst animated nature below prepares for rest
as the silent night approaches ; its last luminous rays light up the
higher clouds with a deep orange-red tint which is reflected far
away into the distance. Even the earth participates in this last
effect of the disappearing orb. So brilliant is it, however, that our
eyes are still dazzled by it, when suddenly the whole effect dis-
appears from sight, with a rapidity unknown to the inhabitants of
the earth's surface, where light struggles so long against darkness.
The sun hides itself beneath the horizon which screens it from
our sight, and at the same instant all this magnificent display of
light and colour vanishes as if by magic !
What a pity it is that we cannot keep our balloon up in the air until
the morning light bursts forth and animates Nature anew ! With what
regret we contemplate the necessity of regaining the earth's surface,
knowing that to-morrow these regions will be again lit up in the
same glorious tints that have just charmed our senses. But we shall
not witness the marvellous spectacle again, for, seen from the ground,
the curious architecture of the clouds and their sublime tints are by
no means the same. The aeronaut alone can see them in their true
aspect. Up above we have an Alhambra of unheard-of richness and
beauty, whose ruby fires rival those of the opal and the sapphire ;
below, we see the same enchanted palace with the lights and colours
extinguished ! . . . .
My brother was enabled to take several sketches of the aerial and
terrestrial landscapes through and above which we travelled, and my
meditations were now and then interrupted to read off the indications
of the thermometer and barometer. Our maximum altitude was
about 12,790 feet: it is the greatest height to which I have yet
soared. The minimum temperature was 23° Fahr.
Though low, this temperature was by no means the Siberian degree
of cold which our friends, whom we had left upon the earth, thought
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ASCENT OF THE " UNION."
345
we should experience. We were not at all inconvenienced by it,
probably because there is no wind in the car of a balloon, so that
no breeze ever blows against our faces. Our breathing was by no
means affected, and the only extraordinary circumstance that I noted
was that our voices were not so easily propagated through the rarefied
air; we were obliged to speak rather loud to make ourselves heard.
Moreover, I experienced a certain buzzing sensation in the ears, and
a slight pain in the tympanum. The air contained in the external
canal of the ear becomes dilated as we rise, on account of the
decrease of external pressure, and this may, in some cases, give rise
to deafness, or to actual pain, during the ascent.
Mangin observed that it was five o'clock, and that we had better
think of making our descent. The balloon was perfectly balanced
in the air, and it was necessary to open the valve and allow some
gas to escape. As we approached the ground, the last ray of solar
light died out in the air; the atmosphere became darker, and the
landscape was enveloped in the dusk of evening.
We fell softly to the ground in a field not very far from Melun,
in front of those groups of trees which form the commencement of
the forest of Senart. The wind drove us along for some distance
over the ploughed land, the balloon bent over on its side, and we
got covered with mud. It was like coming back to stern reality
after a beautiful dream!
Jilt " UMON BALLOON 1> THE -New.
>.\vwvv.%v:<;
"THE 'SWALLOW BALLOON, WHEN [NFLATKD. LAV DOWN DPON I I'S SIDE.
CHAPTER VI f.
WINDY ASCENTS AND DRAGGING.
(\V. DE FONVIELLE AND G. TISSANDIER.)
Our attention has been directed for some time past to the radiating
power of the sun. It is not difficult to understand that all observa-
tions made in this direction upon the surface of the earth must meet
with a great obstacle in presence of cloud or vapour, which intro-
duces error into the degree of heat, measured to an extent which it
is quite impossible to determine. The exact amount of heat radiated
to the earth by the sun is a desideratum in science, and we regret
that our observations have not yet supplied it. The apparatus which
we had constructed with this intention consists of a blackened
copper sphere four inches in diameter, in the centre of which is
placed a thermometer with a round bulb. This apparatus was filled
with water, and placed before a very hot flame. We noticed that
its indications were not rapid enough ; the mercury in the ther-
mometer rose much too slowly. The water was then replaced by
air, the interior of the copper sphere being previously blackened
like the outside, and finally we decided upon having a vacuum in
lieu of air in the sphere. As much time is required to study this
new instrument in order to fix the value of its indication, we have
fill i'l ipll5"'1!
m
.'li
llllf .":,,;.
WINDY ASCENTS AND DRAGGING. 349
not yet been able to use it in our balloon ascents, but we have
decided on calling it a thermoheliomefer, to distinguish it from the
pyrhdiometer imagined by M. Pouillet.1
On the 10th January, 1869, the Entrcprcnant balloon, which had
been repaired since its accident at Havre, was being inflated at the
gasworks of La Villette. But the gas had scarcely entered the
envelope, when the latter was proved to be quite dry and rotten ;
it was impossible to touch it without making a hole, and we were
forced to declare that the Entrcprcnant was dead and gone ! This
check was rather unfortunate, for we had just received telegrams
from Zurich and Madrid, assuring us of the existence of a south-
east wind, which would have been very favourable to us.
We were thus without a balloon ! The Neptune had not been
repaired. However, M. Giffard had still another small one called
the Swallow, but it also required some mending. Through the
kindness of this gentleman it was clothed in a new tissue, varnished,
and taken to the gasworks on Saturday, the 6th of February.
But the capacity of this little balloon was only 23,000 cubic feet,
and we were not sure that it would carry us both. In order to make
certain, every article to be taken with us was carefully weighed, and
the specific gravity of the gas ascertained with accuracy. We were
thus convinced that the anchor and the guide-rope were far too
heavy, if we wished to take even a moderate allowance of ballast.
In this dilemma we hastened to M. Duruof, who supplied us with
the smallest anchor that could be had, and we reduced the propor-
tions of our giude-rope to those of a weak cable. We knew that
such rigging would not protect us from danger in case of a violent
wind, but there was nothing else to be done, the Minister having
refused us the use of the Imperial balloon.
The next day Chavoutier superintended the inflation most success-
fully, though the wind blew in great gusts. The Swallow balloon,
when inflated, lay down upon its side, and the men who hung on to
the car had much difficulty in preventing its escape. When we told
them to let go, we glided upwards with such rapidity that it quite
startled the lookers-on.
It was the first time that Fonvielle and myself had been alone
in the car of an aerostat ; we might be said, therefore, to be trans-
formed, at last, into aeronauts properly so called. We were obliged
to arrange the ballast so as to keep the car horizontal, and by some
1 A drawing and description of the latter instrument is given in a recent work called
"The Sun," by Professor Amadee Guiliemin, translated from the French by T. L.
Phipson, p. 25 ; together with the results obtained by it. (London : Bent ley, 1870.)
350 TRA VELS IN THE AIR.
accident the guide-rope had got tangled. Having straightened it,
Ave also let out the anchor to be ready for our descent.
We reach an altitude of 3,280 feet, and the heat is unbearable ;
on the ground before starting we had only 55°'-A Fahr., and here the
thermometer stands at no less than .82°-i Fahr. The weather is
heavy, suffocating, and the perspiration rushes from our foreheads.
The balloon revolves constantly — -a consequence, no doubt, of the
law that no rapid motion of translation can occur without a corre-
sponding amount of rotation. The sky is clear, and we notice
above the country over which we are sailing, a few fleecy clouds,
that blend into the landscape over which they are suspended.
Along the horizon we notice some silvery groups of cloud, which
present a marvellous aspect. However, we have no time to observe
Nature, for there is something about the balloon which causes us
considerable uneasiness.
The neck is quite flat, and appears to be emptying itself of gas.
"We are obliged to throw out ballast every moment, and no less than
four bags of it have been emptied, one immediately after the other.
"We started at llh. 35m.; it is not yet twelve o'clock, and our
resources are already expended.
A cracking noise is heard several times over our heads ; the
balloon revolves abruptly, and sometimes oscillates no less suddenly.
There is certainly something extraordinary in the state of the atmo-
sphere, which we cannot account for at all.
At Ave minutes past twelve the balloon sinks with great rapidity;
and we observe that our course lies towards some quarries, ravines,
and precipices. We seize upon our last bag of ballast, and a gust
of wind carries us, in one bound, over a wide plain, at the extremity
of which we see considerable extent of forest.
This is the spot to descend upon. The Swallow approaches the
ground, and the car comes down with a terrible bump. Tissaudier
Jiangs to the valve-rope, and observes that Fonvielle is covered with
blood. The hoop of the balloon has struck him upon the head
and caused a deep wound. The car had come to the ground like a
bullet, but we rose again immediately, and had to undergo several
similar contusions. Our anchor fled over the ground and would
not take hold of anything ; it was like a cork at the end of a
piece of string. We seemed to be the. sport of some invisible
power, that first raised us into the air and then bumped us against
the earth.
We were being dragged along by the force of a furious gale !
WINDY ASCENTS AND DRAGGING. 353
So rapid was our flight, that we could not distinguish the various
objects which wc passed by, and in less than a second we found
ourselves thrown on the tops of the trees at the extremity of the
plain. We hoped that the branches would split open the balloon
and put an end to our furious course. The anchor was broken,
and nothing but its ring remained at the end of the rope; — our
only hope was thus dashed to pieces.
Holding on to the valve-rope with all his strength, and squatting
down at the bottom of the car, Tissandier pulled away lustily,
whilst the Swallow jumped about from one tree to the other.
The branches of the trees bent beneath the car1, the wind whistled
in our ears ; the balloon appeared to have lost some gas, but a
sudden gust carried it from the wood again, and down it came
with a hard bump upon the open plain beyond. The wind now
hollowed the balloon into a kind of cup, or basin, and carried us
vigorously across the ploughed land, until finally some men ran up
and caught hold of the guide-rope.
We get out of the car, not without difficulty. Tissandier is
covered with bruises and more or less stunned. Fonvielle, besides
his wound on the head, has his foot sprained, and can scarcely stand.
We inquire where we are, and the peasants inform us that we
have landed at Keuilly St. Front, which is about forty-eight miles
from Paris as the crow flies, and about fifty-one by railway. We
look at our watches with astonishment. It is only thirty-five
minutes since we left the gasworks in Paris ! We have therefore
travelled at the rate of ninety miles per hour ! No balloon ever
rushed through the air with such rapidity as this.
Tissandier emptied the balloon, folded it up, and packed it into the
car ; the whole was safely deposited upon a cart which had been sent
for, and we proceeded toward the village, escorted by a considerable
crowd of country people. The cart loaded with the Swalloto headed
the procession ; we followed close behind. Fonvielle could hardly
walk ; he was obliged to lean on the shoulder of Ids companion, and
take the arm of one of the peasants. The crowd got greater as we
proceeded.
At Neuilly St. Front we were received by the mayor, M. Charpentier,
with the greatest kindness ; and whilst a medical man examined the
extent of Fonvielle' s wounds, we gave an account of our rough adven-
ture We were anxious to see what distance Ave had been pushed
along the ground by the wind, so returned with some of our new
a \
354 TEA VEIS IN THE A IE.
companions to the fields. The traces of our bumping and dragging
were perfectly visible, and we saw the summits of the trees that had
been broken in our furious course. The country people said that they
saw us playing at leap-frog over these oaks some twenty yards high,
and that they were astonished at the rate at which we were going —
much quicker than an express train, they said. This must have been
the case, for our furious gallop only lasted five minutes !
In this excursion, though so rapid and so rough, we were able to
note a very exceptional degree of temperature, and a no less excep-
tional velocity of wind. As Fonvielle's accident took longer than we
imagined it would to get cured, and as I was anxious to verify this
case of extraordinary mildness of temperature, I begged Messrs. Casse
and Delahogues to observe the temperature in an ascent they made
very shortly afterwards. They found a temperature of 60o-8 Fahr. at
an altitude of 3,281 feet, whilst the ground below was almost frozen.
They thus confirmed the result obtained in our previous excursion.
A fortnight later we were about to make another ascent, but gave
up cur place in the car to our artist, M. Albert Tissandier, in order
that he might be better able to illustrate the present volume. Unfort-
unately, this ascent, which he was to make with one of his friends,
M. Moreau, was not a lucky one.
An unforeseen accident brought to a premature end this expedition,
which seemed destined to have been so successful ; for the sun shone
gloriously forth, the weather was clear, and the wind, though it blew
in slight gusts, was not very strong.
Just as M. Mangin, the pilot, gave orders to let go, the balloon was
blown against a part of the gasworks. M. Webber, in trying to hold
it back, was thrown down, had his wrist sprained, and his head cut.
The persons in the car immediately threw out two bags of ballast, but
it was too late ; the balloon was driven with great force against one of
the gasometers, to which its netting got caught and the envelope torn
open. In a few moments it came heavily to the ground.
All this happened in less than a minute, and the crowd which had
accumulated to witness the balloon rise, had the unexpected spectacle
of a descent presented to them.
The balloon was split open from the neck to the valve, but its
reparation was neither long nor expensive. The only material loss
was that of the gas; upwards of 30,000 cubic feet of which had
escaped into the air in less than one second !
DRAGGING (SEE CHAPTER VII )
CHAPTER VIII.
TWO HOURS OVER PARIS IN A CALM.
(W. DE FONVIELLE AND G. TISSANDIER.)
On the 25th of August, 1783, when the first balloon inflated
with hydrogen gas rose from the Champ de Mars, some astronomers
placed at different places in Paris followed its course through the
air, and each observer took the angle of the balloon by means of
a theodolite, as they would have done for a meteor. The sky was
cloudy, however, so that few measures could be made : nevertheless,
Meusnier, a distinguished artillery officer, was able by this means
to trace the track of the balloon through the air. A month later
a fire balloon was sent up at Versailles in the presence of Louis
XVI., and was also observed by two astronomers, one on the high
terrace of the Observatory, and the other on the ground-floor :
Meusnier was again able to define the course of this balloon by the
aid of the figures thus obtained.
But since Pdatre de Eozier and the Marquis dArlandes made
the first balloon ascent, and showed that human beings could travel
in the air, these kinds of observations have been abandoned. Not-
a a 2
356 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
withstanding this, it is certain that observations made by the
aeronauts themselves would complete and control those made on
the ground. The exact determination of the course of the balloon
would verify the accuracy of the instruments employed by them,
and by which they determine their height every moment ; whilst
the observations made by astronomers would also be confirmed.
What an excellent opportunity we have in a balloon ascent for
determining the laws of atmospheric refraction, the accuracy of
micrometric measurements, the appreciation of apparent diameters,
&c. ! A portion of these considerations was brought by one of us
before the Congress of learned societies at its recent meeting, when
M. Le Yerrier did us the honour to endorse our conclusions, and
gave us several pieces of valuable advice, by which we hope soon
to profit.
No one could deny, we imagine, the interest which such an order
of researches presents. Nevertheless, certain persons who hold a
distinguished position among meteorologists and astronomers have
observed that they feared balloons disappeared too quickly to
enable any one to take their measurement with any precision ; and
that it was not probable that the older astronomers would have
given up these kinds of experiments had they been convinced
that any value attached to them.
We replied to these remarks by referring to the fact that Mr.
fllaisher had observed the balloon of Mr. John Welsh during its
entire course from Vauxhall to Folkestone, a distance of nearly
sixty miles. Moreover, we determined to reply still further to these
criticisms by making an experiment which should leave no doubt
upon the subject. We determined upon causing our balloon to
remain quite still, or nearly so, in order that the whole of Paris
might see it as a stationary object in the air. Such a result
required not only a clear day, but the complete absence of wind,
or the simultaneous existence of a series of small currents at
different heights.
We have been fortunate enough to float for a long time just
above our starting-point, so as to be visible from below for two
whole hours.
We intended starting on the 4th April in the Union balloon,
and M. Le Yerrier had invited some members of the scientific
Congress to witness our ascent; but the weather proved bad, and
tlio rain came down in abundance, so that we were obliged to put
off our ascent till the Sunday following. We were thus deprived
of tin' benefit that would have resulted from the presence of several
TWO HOURS OVER PARIS IN A CALM. 359
distinguished physicists who were prepared to have made certain
observations on this occasion.
Eight da}'s later we decided on starting, whatever might be the
state of the weather, and we determined to inspect the interior of the
balloon ourselves ; it was therefore inflated with air, and we went in
early in the morning to see if there were any holes in the tissue
that recpiired mending. We might make such an examination with
the aid of a powerful lens. However ridiculous this may appear, the
result would doubtless be beneficial ; for gas can escape by holes that
are quite invisible to the naked eye.
The Union aerostat is spread upon the grass, and a ventilating fan
fixed to the neck of it. Two workmen turn the fan, and as the air
enters the balloon swells up over the ground. Mangin and I penetrate
into its interior, and find that the temperature inside is quite suf-
focating, being no less than 910-4 Eahr., whilst outside it was only
77o-0. This fact need not surprise anyone; for a semi-transparent
stuff like that of the balloon acts like the glass of a conservatory: it
allows the luminous rays of the sun to penetrate through it, and
stores up the heat. The interior of the air-inflated balloon presents a
somewhat singular aspect: we find ourselves in an immense dome
which the motion of the air causes to oscillate to and fro ; the li<dit
which filters through from outside is soft and uniform. The shadow
of persons outside is projected on to the balloon, and, from the
interior, is seen like " Chinese shadows." Altogether the spectacle is
too curious to describe accurately, so M. Albert Tissandier comes in
with paper and pencil to make a sketch of it.
Next day, 1 lth April, the weather appeared to be very fine. Since
last evening the barometer had been remarkably steady, and in the
last few days the higher clouds had not taken the form of threatening
stripes like those which Turner reproduces so excellently in his
agitated skies, and winch, according to our own personal experience,
generally seem to announce bad weather.
Whilst the balloon was being inflated we noticed that the sky was
dark blue. Early in the morning we tried the state of the atmosphere
by sending up a small and elegant captive balloon of some 600 cubic
feet capacity, constructed with great care by M. Duruof.
The process of inflating proceeded much slower than usual. Though
the gas flowed into the tube at the ordinary pressure, it did not enter
the balloon with the calculated velocity. We knew that the valve
had got warped since the Union was last used, but we had remedied
that by pressing the sides together and adding some supplementary
300 TRAVELS IN Till: AIT!
springs to keep it closed; moreover we had applied a thick layer
of grease over the valve. Surely, we thought, this would retain the
gas. And so it did, for the cause of the tardy inflation was dis-
covered to be a small piece of cloth, which in some unaccountable
manner had forced its way over the orifice of the tube which led the
gas into the balloon, thereby diminishing the size of this orifice con-
siderably, and fully explaining the slowness with which the inflation
proceeded.
This unfortunate circumstance caused a delay of two hours, much
to our annoyance, for some gentlemen connected with the Zurich
Observatory had come to witness the ascent.
Whilst the last remaining fissures were being carefully stopped,
Fonvielle erected a kind of rudimentary observatory upon the ground.
It consisted of a telescope upon a wooden stand, provided with a
vertical graduated rod, whilst upon the sand around it he had traced
a wind-rose. This apparatus was destined to follow the various
directions taken by the balloon.
"We could have wished that the telescope had been provided with
a micrometer, in order to measure the apparent diameter of the
balloon at various intervals: but our principal object was to prove
that the aerostat could remain in sight for a considerable space
of time.
When all was ready we got into the car, and our pilot, M.
Mangin, adopted a simple and prudent method of starting. He
held one extremity of a rope, the other end of which was held
by five or six of his friends on the ground, and by letting it go
the rope falls, and we soar up very quietly. A single bag of ballast
then thrown out causes us to rise quite as rapidly as a vulture
would fly.
The sun shone forth, and the network of the balloon puffed out
under the influence of its warm" rays. The flags hang down in
elegant festoons, and seemed to follow us with some difficulty. If
the valve had been perfectly tight without the poultice, we could stay
our upward course at any moment by letting out a bubble of gas ; but
in its actual state it would have been imprudent to touch it ; there-
fore, we allowed the valve-rope to remain dangling idly in the car,
and reckoned upon the escape of gas from the neck, and the constant
loss through the pores of the balloon, to prevent our soaring into
unknown regions.
We were nut Inn- in perceiving that the object of our excursion
was fulfilled to the utmost extent of our expectations. The sur-
TWO HOURS OVER PARIS IN A CALM. 363
rounding objects appeared perfectly still ; the motions of the balloon
from right to left, or from north to south, compensated each other
most accurately. We rose and sank alternately, or we veered off
a little and came back again directly ; constantly hovering over
the spot where the aerostat was filled with gas a little time
before.
During this time we amused ourselves by noticing the fluctuations
of the aneroid needle as we rose or sank a little by intervals ; it
was interesting to witness how accurately it obeyed the hand that
poured out a little sand. We were surprised also to meet with
a floating spider's thread of gossamer ; Fonvielle stretched out his
hand and caught it. Here we had an aerostat manufactured by a
minute field-spider that abandons itself in its frail skiff to the
mercy of the winds ! On some other occasion, when we shall
bring up a microscope into these higher regions of the air, which
we thought to be completely deserted, perhaps we may discover
a whole world of minute beings of which this is only one
example.
The scene below was so beautiful, that while contemplating it
we quite forget the danger that was threatening us, — namely, that
of coming down in one of the Paris streets ! The country around
was beautifully green, and the Seine flowed through the landscape
like a brilliantly-coloured scarf. Argenteuil lay on the horizon,
and immediately below us was Asnieres ; we saw the rowers in
their boats upon the river, but from such an elevation they seemed
quite still, though they were ploughing the water with all their
power. On the other side of the landscape Paris was spread out
beneath our eyes.
We notice around the horizon and extending to the height of
our car, a kind of circular mist, and over the summit of this semi-
translucent well of fog, of which our aerostat forms the centre, soar
a string of little pearly clouds, white as silver, and of very elegant
forms.
At first we rose to 5,200 feet, but now we have reached a height
of 6,400 feet, and the heat is very great, 75°*2 Fahr. We are so
still that we might imagine ourselves bound to the earth by a
thousand invisible ropes. By means of my telescope I can dis-
tinguish every quarter of Paris, the riders in the Bois, the loungers
in the Tuileries, the churches, the monuments, and the very streets
in which we live.
Generally speaking, the earth, seen from the balloon, appears flat ;
364 T1!A VELS IN THE AIR
but to-day the country around certainly presents a tew undulations,
an effect which may he owing, perhaps, to the different quantities
of light which the various surfaces receive according to the slope
which they present to the sun. As to the shadow of the balloon
upon which we reckoned for making some experiments, it is quite
impossible to find out where it is. This fact is not to he attributed,
I think, to our altitude, so much as to our perfect immobility.
"When a balloon travels along, the shadow is soon recognized, even
from a great height, as a black spot, often very small, which glides
across the fields and houses with great rapidity, and is easy to
distinguish from anything else by this rapid motion.
We were, then, in the same predicament as the hero of Chamisso,
who had lost his shadow, when a curious observation caused us to
cease looking for it. Whilst the balloon gradually sank towards
the earth, a confused kind of murmur reached our ears : it was
not unlike the distant breaking of waves against a sandy coast,
and scarcely less monotonous. It was the noise of Paris that reached
us as soon as we sank to within 2,600 feet of the ground, but which
disappeared at once when we threw out just sufficient ballast to
rise above that altitude. What an ocean of thought and rumour
was there beneath our feet !
Whilst we were talking of this, Mangiu let the anchor slip out.
Unfortunately he did not take the precaution which I recommended,
and hang it sideways, by means of a piece of string, so that it
did not run the risk of fixing itself in some housetop — for such
threatening shoals were rampant in all directions. We endeavoured
to avoid the consequence of this omission, and to get the anchors
back again, hut it was too late ; the attempt caused the car to
oscillate considerably, and this might have become dangerous, for
the balloon was an old one.
We must, then, navigate how we can, and not attempt to take in
the anchor, and so our situation has become rather precarious.
If we could maintain ourselves at a given horizontal height, we
might profit by the light breeze and allow it to carry us away into
the country. But we have expended three sacks of ballast in an
hour, and we cannot expect to keep the balloon at the height of
4,900 feet, with the only sack that remains on board; and to
preserve a horizontal course will cost us more than we can afford
to enable us to float over the whole city of Paris. We prefer,
therefore, to continue our alternate rising and sinking, coming
nearer and nearer to the ground.
We hold a short consultation as to the ffovernmenl <>{' the balloon
TWO HOURS OVER PARIS IN A CALM. 367
during the descent. As our guide-rope is longer than that of the
anchor, our safety will depend principally upon it.
The multitude of people in the streets, whose clamour rises to us
so distinctly, cannot fail to furnish a few willing hands fco help us,
and direct our course when we come close to the ground. If we are
lucky enough to come over a clear space, we will open the valve at
once, and if necessary throw out a little ballast to diminish the force
of the shock, which might otherwise compromise our lower extremities.
About twenty minutes to five o'clock a lower current of air carries us
along with tolerable rapidity in a direction parallel to the fortifications.
We pass over the goods railway station at Batignolles, and we per-
ceive a cemetery beneath us. In front we have the St. Lazare Railway,
with quantities of engines, whilst to the right and left are numerous
houses and some small works. It is the Clichy Cemetery that is
just below us, and the only spot where we can effect a tolerably
secure descent.
We did not deliberate long, and in spite of M. Mangin I pulled
the valve-rope, and brought the balloon down. A crowd of
crows flew off as we approached, and the tombstones stood out
in a most picturesque fashion as we neared the ground ; the sight
of the balloon was too much for a poor woman who happened
to be there ; she uttered a shriek and rushed off, carrying her
child with her.
Our anchor caught in a newly-opened grave ; some men ran up
and caught hold of the guide-rope, and we reached the ground with
remarkable quietness.
In our last excursion we had travelled fifty miles in thirty-five
minutes;" at the rate we had been going in this one, we should
have required about five days to perform the same distance. In fact,
the aerial ocean has its tempests like the North Sea, and its dead
calms like that of the tropics.
My brother Albert, who from the heights of Montmartre had
witnessed our ascent, had time to come on foot to the spot where
we descended. In fact, he might easily have walked about four
times as quick as our balloon travelled.
M. Wolf, the director of the Zurich Observatory, caused some
meteorological observations to be made at different altitudes on the
day of our ascent. The temperatures observed by him are consider-
ably lower than those we registered at corresponding altitudes. This
may appear a detail of little importance, but to us it is not so.
Probably the glaciers of the Swiss mountains have their influence
368 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
upon the temperature of the aerial ocean above them, which is like
ice as compared to our Parisian sky. Moreover, the influence of the
Alpine ranges made itself felt also in the astonishing variety in the
direction of the wind. At Zurich the wind was east and strong ; at
Berne, S.W., slight; at Castagna, S.W., very mild; at Sainte-Croix,
N.W., weak ; at Closter, S.E., weak ; at Beners, S., weak ; at Duber,
E. ; at Chaumont, E., weak ; at Neuchatel, SAW, weak. At several of
these stations thunder and lightening were noted, and in the Alps a
storm with high wind. At Sainte-Oroix heavy clouds floated above
the horizon, and rain fell in torrents. At Berne, thunder was heard.
AVho can have any doubt but that the Alps were the cause of all
these perturbations \ Without the presence of these mountains, the
sky of Switzerland might have been as calm as that in which the
Union balloon appeared to have cast its anchor.
The above observations noted by M. Wolf, whom we thank for the
interest he takes in our experiments, appear to us to point to the
influence exerted by high mountains upon the state of the atmosphere
in adjacent countries. Whilst our balloon was fixed in the air above
Paris in a state of perfect tranquillity, thunder roared and impetuous
winds blew over Switzerland. Would not the science of meteorology,
or rather the " science of the air," make rapid progress if such
experiments were more frequently carried out — or if comparative
ascents were made frerpiently in a great number of localities ? We
could thus follow the course of the various currents at different
altitudes, and the results would, doubtless, be fruitful.
What should we know of the ocean if a few sailors only had
navigated a short distance from the coasts, without losing sight
of port ? Should we ever have had any notion of the vast currents
that flow regularly from the poles to the equator, and reciprocally
counterbalancing the heat of the one and the cold of the other ?
Should wTe ever have become acquainted with those vast fields of
seaweed, those shoals of madrepora, or the regions of calm ? Where
would now have been the bases of the physical geography of the
sea ? The same argument applies to the gaseous ocean in the
depths in which we live. Now that the telegraph has united all
the nations of the earth, why do we not at once undertake simul-
taneous balloon ascents at given periods of the year — why should
we not explore those higher regions systematically, and endeavour
to discover the tides of the air?
In our last ascent but one we rose into a heated current, the
existence of which was not suspected by those on the earth's
surface. Where did this warm river, which flowed for a whole
TllV HOURS OVER PARIS IN A CALM.
369
month over the clouds, arise ? "Where did it derive its heat ? Did
it come from the tropics? And why is the air so calm and stagnant
to-day, like the tranquil water of an inland lake? What numbers
of grand and useful problems arise when we think of the possible
results of systematic balloon ascents !
<" , -,*f 7> efts*4-" —
INFLATION (IF T1IF. liAI.LGuN Willi A VENTILATOR.
B 1!
CONSTRUCTION OF THE " CAPTIVE " BALLOON OF LONDON.
CHAPTER IX.
THE GREAT "CAPTIVE BALLOON AT LONDON.
(W. DK FONVIELLE AND G. TiSSANDIER.)
The great Captive balloon was located at Chelsea, in a circular
enclosure formed of linen upon a wooden frame extending to
the height of a five-storied house, and representing an immense
cylinder 575 feet in diameter. In the centre of this circular space
stood the vast aerostat, the volume of which, being no less than
424,000 cubic feet, was greater than that of an ordinary gasometer,
and its height 121 feet. The Captive was suspended over a
circular opening, at the bottom of which was an iron pulley
for the cable to run under. Some hundred ropes fixed to the
equatorial band of the balloon and to the circular enclosure helped
to hold it down when not in use.
The cable was 2,132 feet long, and weighed 59 cwt. ; it was proved
to be capable of bearing a tension of twenty tons.
This cable was attached to the balloon in a very ingenious manner,
and connected with a machine for determining the tension on the
cable, as .shown in Fig. 1, next page.
In Fig. 2 is shown how the rope passed under the iron pulley
at the bottom of the circular opening; thence it ran through a
short subterranean tunnel to an immense cylinder or reel, moved
THE GREAT "CAPTIVE" BALLOOA AT LONDON. 371
by steam. This reel was twenty-three feet long and six and a halt*
feet in diameter ; the rope wound round it 100 times. Two steam -
FIG. 1. THE WEIGHING MACHINE OF THE "CAPTIVE."
engines of 150-horse power were employed to put this apparatus
in motion.
FIG. 2. THE PULLET.
The Captive balloon was inflated with pure hydrogen gas ; and
one of the greatest difficulties which M. Giffard had to contend with
b u 2
372 TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
was to render the stuff of the. balloon impermeable. The tissue was
formed of several layers of stuff: first, a layer of india-rubber was
enclosed between two sheets of linen, and this aijain covered with
a second layer of india-rubber ; over this came a layer of muslin,
and then a layer of lac varnish and six successive coats of oil
varnish. Thanks to this complicated structure of the envelope,
the Captive was quite impermeable to the enclosed gas, and on the
day of its first ascent it had been inflated already for a whole
fortnight.
The stuff of the Captive balloon weighed no less than 2 tons
15 cwt. ; its surface measured 3,000 square yards, and to join all
the pieces of tissue together 2-|- miles of sewing had to be done.
This marvellous aerostat was to other balloons what the Great Eastern
is to ordinary ships.
On Monday, the 3rd May, 1869, we attended the inauguration of
this immense aerial apparatus. At one o'clock precisely the equa-
torial ropes were let go, the engine set to work, and the large balloon
rose slowly into the air, carrying up its heavy cable and about 30 cwt,
of ballast besides. When it was found that the machinery worked
properly, the bags of sand were withdrawn, and twenty-eight aerial
travellers, among whom was Mr. Glaisher, the director of the Meteor-
ological Observatory at Greenwich, substituted for the ballast. We
rose with a velocity of 328 feet per minute, and floated at a height
of nearly 2,000 feet above the enclosure below. The wind was not
strong, and we remained quietly suspended in the air. The atmo-
sphere was foggy, but still we could see the ground, the crowd of
spectators, and the river Thames winding below us.
Another ascent was made on the following Wednesday, the 5th of
May. The editors of several London papers were invited to inspect
the balloon on this occasion, and in spite of the strong wind, blowing
at the rate of sixty miles an hour, the Captive rose twice very success-
fully. We were twenty-nine persons in the car, and Mr. Glaisher had
his young son with him — a proof of his confidence in the machinery
of M. Giffard. The strong wind whistled through the ropes, the
balloon lay over, and the car oscillated violently ; we were blown
about 660 feet beyond the boundary of the enclosure below. How-
ever, the strong cable brought us safely back again.
Mr. Glaisher appeared to pay no attention to the wind, or to the
oscillations of the balloon : his eyes remained fixed either upon his
instruments or the dynamometer, which indicated a tension of three
tons, therefore nothing to alarm us, since the cable could bear four
times as much.
THE GREAT " CAPTIVE" BALLOON AT LONDON. 375
The sky presented an admirable aspect. The sun appeared in the
midst of mountains of cloud, and its brilliant rays transformed the
Thames into a river of fire. Houses, trees, and streets appeared no
larger than children's toys, and the general aspect of things was the
same as we experience in ordinary balloon ascents. In some of our
aerial excursions we have risen to a height of 9,843 feet, and the
landscape seen from this altitude is not more striking than from the
car of the Captive balloon.
During this ascent Mr. Glaisher made notes of the temperature
and the dew-point, and explained to us in detail his methods of
taking observations in the balloon.
The conditions under which a captive ascent is made are, however,
very different from those of ordinary balloon ascents, more especially
as regards wind. An aeronaut is not accustomed to feel any wind,
whereas in the captive balloon it often appears very violent, or even
tempestuous. It is like being at sea in a gale, and the car, like
the boat of a fisherman, bounds over the invisible waves of the
aerial ocean.
From a financial point of view the Captive balloon was a complete
failure, but in a technical sense it was a great success.
The surface of the earth was dark and dreary when we made our
next ascent in the Captive. In the car were also Mr. Glaisher and
M. Albert Tissandiei", who had not forgotten his pencils. We rose
through the dark fog which then hung over the great city, and
we got a glimpse of the sun darting its gilded rays among those
masses of grey cloud or mist, and again lighting up the water of
the Thames, which glistened like a brilliant serpent creeping below
thick folds of muslin. The wind was rather violent, and blew in a
perfect gale through the ropes and network. We felt cold ; the
wind nearly carried our hats and our rugs away, so that, like the
traveller described by La Fontaine, we were obliged to struggle
against the efforts of the god Boreas. We remained for a quarter of
an hour in presence of the magic spectacle, and endeavoured to get
a sight of the great capital; but it had disappeared entirely behind
its vapoury exhalations. Soon the cable was wound again round the
cylinder by the powerful engines, and the Captive, like a docile slave,
landed us safely on the ground.
The captive balloon is not only an apparatus destined to make
pleasant excursions into cloudland ; it may be used with consider-
able advantage for making very interesting scientific observations :
for instance, to measure the intensity and direction of the various
currents of wind ; to ascertain daily the exact hygroinetrical state
37(3 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
of the air, and the temperature of the atmosphere at different alti-
tudes. Thus it may some day become a powerful agent in accele-
rating the progress of that young science termed meteorology. "When
the Aurora Borealis glimmers in the heavens, the captive balloon can
carry the observer above the clouds, and bring him face to face
with that imposing phenomenon. When the shooting stars dart
across the sky, the astronomer might leap into its car, and rise into
a region where observation will produce fruitful results. In fact,
we have no doubt that captive aerostats will play an important part
in developing the science of the atmosphere.
In spite of the charm attaching to aerial travels in general, the
English priblic did not think proper to patronize the Captive balloon
of Ashburnham Park. It was decided, therefore, that on the 13th
May, several journalists should be invited to make an ascent at two
o'clock, and partake of luncheon in the air ; and a very joyous ascent
wras made on that day with about twenty persons in the car. How-
ever, just as the Captive appeared to be getting over its difficulties, an
accident put a sudden stop to the speculation.
On Friday, 28th May, the wind was rather strong, and the engineer
was imprudent enough to let out some rope at a moment when he
thought the car would be blown against the circular enclosure. At
this instant the car was, in fact, upon the beams of the enclosure,
so that the strain upon the rope slackened, and the latter got out
of the pulley. A gust of wind drove the balloon away, and the rope
was speedily worn through by intense frictiou against the metallic
sides of the groove. It broke ! and the balloon shot up into space
with the velocity of a cannon-ball, carrying up a piece of beam at
the end of the rope. Luckily there were no persons in the car at
the time, and, thanks to the automatic apparatus in the balloon itself,
the danger to the latter was considerably diminished.
It is evident that the first bound would have proved somewhat
serious to any passenger in the car, but he would have run no
further risk than that of being suffocated by the rapidity of the
upward flight.
It is supposed that the Captive rose in this instance to a height
of some 12,000 feet, but in doing so it must have lost a considerable
quantity of gas through the safety-valve in the neck. Once in a
state of equilibrium, it was nut long in coming down, and reached
the ground at twenty leagues from London, near Linslow. The
piece of cable it had taken up acted as a kind of guide-rope, and
the balloon came to a standstill in a plain, after making several
high bounds. Some country people ran up and hung on to the ropes,
IIS IIS
li.'M
1 Pill I i I I
THE GREAT " CAPTIVE" BALLOON AT LONDON. 379
and a lad got into the network. At this moment a gust of wind
caused the balloon to rise again to a height of some 130 feet,
carrying up the child with it ! He was got out when the balloon
came down again, but the person who came to his rescue fell to
the ground on getting down from the ropes, and broke his shoulder.
It was now dark, and one of the inhabitants mounted a horse and
rode off for a medical man. On the road his horse ran against a
carriage and fell dead on the spot, breaking the leg of its rider in
the fall.
The Captive had arrested its course at the foot of a large oak-tree
on the grounds of Sir Harry Verney. It passed the night under
the superintendence of Colonel Pratt, and guarded by fifteen men.
Next morning the news of its capture was telegraphed to London.
The last person who went up in the Captive balloon was an old
woman aged one hundred years ; the same who, on losing her son
aged seventy-five, exclaimed, " I felt sure I should never bring-
up that poor child ! " For the last forty years she had been an
inmate of the Lambeth "Workhouse, and on her hundredth birth-
day, when the master of that establishment asked her what she
woidd like best on this occasion, replied that she longed to make
an ascent in the Captive 1 alloon. The car was therefore placed at
her disposal, and she rose into the air accompanied by some of her
ancient friends.
THE CAR OF THE " CAPTIVE " BALLOON
THE "NOItTH POLE" BALLOON IN THE AIR.
CHAPTER X.
AN ASCENT PROM THK CHAMP DK MARS.— THE "NORTH POLE" BALLOON.
(w. HE FONVIEJ.LE AND O. TISSAND1ER.)
I. The Preparations.
M. H. GlFFARD having kindly placed at our disposal one of the
largest aerostats ever made, my friend M. de Fonvielie and myself
determined to continue our aerial peregrinations in it. But how
were we to cover the immense expense of a journey in such a
colossal machine ? It is evident that we must induce the public to
lake an interest in it, but as we did not wish to derive any pecuniary
benefit, or profit, over and above the expenses incurred, we decided
upon naming the balloon the North Pole, and handing over any profit
that might arise to the Arctic expedition projected by M. Gustavo
Lambert.
With these intentions I sent a petition to the Emperor, seconded
by General Morin, Baron Larrey, and M. Ch. St. Claire-Deville,
begging his Majesty to permit the use of the Esplanade des Invalided
for making some scientific balloon ascents for the benefit of the
French expedition to the North Pole.
I waited one month for an answer. On the 12th of April a letter
reached me from the Emperor's cabinet, stating that the esplanade
of the Invalides was an inconvenient place for balloon ascents, hut
THE "NORTH POLE" BALLOON. 381
that if I communicated with the Prefect of Police I should be
authorized to use the Champ de Mars.
I wrote to the Prefecture, ami I had an interview with the secretary
of the Prefect, who kept me waiting one hour in his antechamber.
At last I gained admittance, and was informed that the Champ de
Mars belonged to the Minister of War, and that I must address
myself to him. I hastened to send a despatch to Marshal Niel, and
waited anxiously for fourteen days, but no answer came. I then
went to the War Office, when I learned that the Minister had been
obliged to consult the other military authorities, that they would keep
my letter at least a week in their office, besides which the Minister
would not give his consent until he had consulted the Director of
the Fortifications, who would doubtless wish to consult the Com-
mandant of Paris upon the subject. I was recommended also to pay
a visit to the Director of Works on the Champ de Mars, to know if
the ground would be ready for the 27th June, for the cavities left by
the demolition of the Exhibition building were not yet filled up.
In this manner two whole months rapidly vanished ! At last, on
the 21st May, 1869, I received a reply from the Minister of War!
He informed me that I was authorized to make two ascents from
the Champ de Mars, provided I got the consent of the Fortifications
Committee, the Artillery Company, the Commandant of Paris, and
the Director of Works on the Champ de Mars.
I was thus compelled to hurry from the Rue Bellechase to the
Place Vendome, and from the Place Vendome to the Cham}) de Mars,
wasting hours of precious time in their various offices, and biting my
nads with impatience, day after day.
In the midst of all these embarrassments I learnt that the great
Captive balloon had arrived from London, and was now at the Port
St. Nicholas in Paris. It was the 31st May, and the ascent was
fixed to take place on the 27th June. There was, therefore, not a
moment to be lost. I rushed off to the Port to get my little packet
weighing 9,0UO lbs. Alas ! I had not reckoned on the custom-house
officer !
This acute official politely informed me that as the balloon came
from London, nothing proved that it was of Flinch origin ; that the
india-iubber in it must pay a duty of two pounds per cwt., and
the hempen ropes ten shillings per cwt. : the balloon and ropes
together weighed nearly three tons ! I made use of my most per-
suasive language to assure him that the balloon was manufactured
by M. Flaud, in Paris, and informed him of the absolute necessity of
our making the ascent on the day fixed. It was all to no purpose.
382 TEA VELS IN THE AIR.
The clerk of the custom-house officer informed me that I must
procure a stamped document from the manufacturers, declaring the
balloon to be theirs, and duly signed and sealed by them. Without
this I must pay the duty, amounting to about 120/. !
Fortunately I was able to procure some kind of a document which
satisfied the custom-house authorities, after rushing about Paris in a
cab for more than three hours ; and the next day the balloon was
given up.
As soon as we got possession of it we commenced making a large
car for it, some nine square yards in surface, and adjusting to it
the necessary ropes. M. Giffard, with his usual generosity, not only
had everything done at his expense, but actually subscribed hand-
somely to the fund for-the Lambert expedition. The management
of our balloon excursion was confided to M. Saint-Felix, formerly a
passenger in the Giant, when he was crushed by the car in the
descent at Hanover, and now exalted to the rank of pilot of the
North Polr.
The Parisian Gas Company, when made acquainted, with the
object of our ascents, proved very kind and obliging, allowing us
our quantum of gas for the sum of 4,000 francs (160/.), instead of
10,000 (400/.) Whilst M. Saint-Felix arranged the placards and
stiperintended the enclosure, I took the necessary steps to procure
a detachment of soldiers to keep order whilst the balloon was
inflated on the day of the ascent.
I addressed myself for this purpose to Marshal Canrobert, but the
June disturbances having begun, I was told that the ascent would
not take place at all if they continued, and that I must again address
myself to the Minister of War.
I was obliged to follow this advice, but could not help trembling
when I thought of the numerous difficulties which arose as the
decisive moment approached. The great placards already announced
the ascent for the 27th June, and there was no possibility of putting
it off. What a week Saint-Felix and I passed before the advent of
that Sunday which was to mark an epoch in our lives !
The 21st June arrived before I had received any reply from the
Minister of War, and the police authorities had refused to send
any men unless the military authorities would allow us some
soldiers also. In this dilemma I went to General Soumain, the
Commandant of Paris. To my astonishment he cut short my dis-
course, saying that he knew all about it ; that the authorities were
highly to blame in allowing us to make use of the Champ de Mars,
already so long occupied by the Exhibition building, when it was
THE "NORTH POLE" BALLOON. 383
required for drilling the troops, and that it was not laid out for
the purpose of making balloon ascents. "As for soldiers," he
said, " you shall have none ; and as for your request for a military
band, you shall not have that either. The army is not a police
force, and military music was never intended to amuse a parcel
of fools ! "
In fact, the worthy General allowed his temper to get the better of
him, and our interview turned out rather melodramatical. He per-
sisted in his assertion that whatever I might do we should have
neither troops nor music on the Champ de Mars.
The Minister of War was at this time with the Emperor at the
camp of Chalons, and I need not here enter into the particulars of
certain influences which I brought to bear upon our cause, but
content myself by stating that two days later I received a letter from
him containing the following words : — " By letter of this day I have
ordered M. to place at your disposal 200 infantry and 150
artillerymen ; " and the day following I received a visit from the
amiable bandmaster, who showed me the programme of a delicious
concert, the music of which was to be performed during the inflation
of the North Pole balloon.
The Academy of Sciences was kind enough to take an interest in
our ascent, and named a commission, composed of Baron Larrey,
General Morin, and M. Ch. St. Claire-Deville, who supplied us with
instructions and instruments; and if certain unforeseen accidents
had not occurred, Ave should have duly profited by them — but what
is deferred is not lost.
The Montsouris Observatory confided to us some of its finest instru-
ments ; and the Meteorological Society of France gave notice to all
its various European stations, in order that simultaneous observations
might be made by them on the day of our ascent. We have also to
thank M. Husson, the eminent director of the Assistance Publique, for
his zeal in the cause of the Polar expedition, and General dAuvergne
for the intelligent artillerymen he placed at our disposal. Our
colleagues of the press and the Parisian Gas Company also contri-
buted largely to the success of the enterprise.
As for our friend Gustave Lambert and his Polar expedition, we
hoped to gain for them a considerable financial result ; but, alas ! the
Parisian public was cold in this respect; it would not give its mite
towards the realization of the great project to which he had devoted
so many years of his life ; and it thus compels him to witness the
departure of Arctic expeditions from every other civilized country
384
TRAVELS IN THE AIR
with the view of attaining that Pole upon which he had dreamed of
fixing tin; French flae '
One thought alone consoles us: it is that the Polar expedition and
aerial navigation .joined hands for once. It was -,i touching union of
two noble causes equally neglected, equally unfortunate.
II. The Voyage.
On Saturday, the 26tli of June, the crew of the North Pol, balloon
was on fool at six o'clock in the morning. The aerostat was carried
THE VALVE OF THE "M.RTH POLE" BALLOON
to the Champ de Mars by sixty artillerymen, lis lower extremity
was put into communication with the gaspipe, and to its upper pari
the magnificent new valve of M. Giffard was affixed. This valve is
formed of a metallic disc four feet in diameter, which is pressed
THE "NORTH POLE" BALLOON.
against a wooden hoop by eighteen steel springs. The whole day
was passed in making our preparations for departure, hedging in our
enclosure, and filling the six hundred sacks of ballast which we
required. At nine in the evening we dined with M. Lambert, who
volunteered to guard the balloon through the night. We were nine
persons in all, ready to ascend the next day.
As stated above, the object of this ascent was a double one ; it was
to serve the cause of Science, and contribute funds to the Lambert
expedition. We must now state, unfortunately, that as far as the
financial result was concerned it was a complete failure. There
remained a difference, on the wrong side, of 160/. between the
expenses and the receipts ! We hoped to neutralize this by means
of a second ascent, but months have since passed, and no further
attempt has yet been found possible.
The price of the places had been fixed at twenty francs for the
circle around the balloon, one franc for the next circle, and half a
franc for the outer one. The first of these might have held about
a thousand persons, but many of them had free admittance, and,
moreover, the public in the franc places managed to slip into the
seats nearer the balloon. As for those who really paid for their
seats, they were rare, and one of my friends said it reminded him
of the old Latin line, " Apparent rari nantes in gurgitc vasto."
The ex-King of Spain and the Prince of Asturias were among
the spectators, and the little fellow, thinking himself on the other
side of the Pyrenees, no doubt, came and installed himself in the
car, and kept back the other children who wished to follow him,
until a strong arm was stretched forth and lifted him from his
improvised throne.
There were about three thousand spectators in the franc places,
and some eight thousand in the half- franc seats. But outside the
enclosure there must have been at least 100,000 persons, who
stood there for hours together, contemplating with intense interest
all the various preparations ; and on the Trocadero the multitude
was dense indeed. We recognized plenty of rich people, and even
several carriages in the crowd there, giving us this hideous proof
of their indifference to the success of the Lambert expedition.
The American aeronaut Wells once told me an anecdote which
this sight caused me to remember. He had made a very successful
ascent at New York, and shortly afterwards met a stranger, who
came up and said, " Sir, I was in the street when your balloon passed
overhead, and I saw so well that I think I ought to give you the
price of one of the first places." Thereupon he placed a two-dollar
c c
386 TEA VELS IN THE AIE.
piece in the hand of Mr. Wells, who pocketed the same with con-
siderable satisfaction.
An accident happened to the little balloon, the Swallow, which
was to accompany the North Pole on this occasion. A gust of wind,
which had no effect whatever on the latter, caused the Swallow to
burst suddenly. It sank down immediately, exhaling a few large
puffs of yellow smoke. Instead of pitying the aeronaut, who thus
lost, in a few seconds, the work of many months, every one was
convulsed with a fit of laughter !
Though announced for five o'clock, our ascent did not take place
till seven. If we had not been able to rise, the multitude on the
Trocadero would certainly have pounced down upon us and torn us
to pieces, balloon and all ; for nothing can equal the wrath and
indignation of those who pay nothing. The cause of our delay
deserves to be briefly mentioned.
A balloon, as every one knows, is enclosed in a network of ropes
which is firmly attached to the valve. In the North Pole this net has
38,000 meshes, and its lower portion finishes with sixty -four ropes.
These are united to the hoop to which the car is suspended by
means of sixteen much stronger ropes. The sixty-four ropes which
hang from the network are each ten feet long, and, together with
the eyes at their extremities, weigh, each of them, more than 2 lbs.
avoirdupois. Just as we were about to fasten on the hoop, we found
that our aeronaut had left the aforesaid sixty-four ropes in his
workshop. Tissandier and myself could scarcely contain ourselves on
receiving this distressing information. We were obliged to purchase
the necessary amount of rope at a shop in the neighbourhood, and
the fixing of it, without reckoning the making one hundred and
twenty-eight knots, occupied a considerable amount of time.
Sixty-four equatorial ropes enabled three hundred artillerymen
to hold the balloon down. The valve, though it weighed about a
couple of hundred pounds, was buoyed up as the gas entered the
envelope without any help from us. Nevertheless, it was almost
seven o'clock, and we had still all our cords, anchor, guide-rope, &c.
to arrange. All this work was urgent, for if any accident occurrred
in the air, and all these matters were not properly arranged before
starting, we might consider ourselves as lost. Just at this moment
the impatience of the crowd knew no bounds, and we heard the
outsiders breaking with a crashing noise into the enclosure. We
hastily threw in all our ropes pell-mell, though it might have
cost us our lives, and jumped into the car without further delay.
THE "NORTH POL?:" BALLOON 387
The frightful disorder that reigned there made us feel very uneasy
indeed.
Being in all nine persons instead of eleven as we should have
been, Tissandier, who by this time had taken the command upon
himself, resolved to take up two more bags of sand ; and at a quarter
to seven o'clock he gave the order to let go with all the force of
his lungs.
It was our intention to pass the night in the atmosphere if cir-
cumstances had permitted it; but the lower wind blew in the
direction of the sea : we decided therefore to rise, if possible, into
another current. We ascended to a height of 10,000 feet with in-
credible velocity. We then felt a violent wind produced by the motion
of the balloon into a contrary current of air : it soon ceased, the
course of the aerostat slackened, and we were lucky enough to find
ourselves in the higher current, flowing in a contrary direction to
the lower one. Fonvielle fixed himself opposite to the barometer
and noted its smallest oscillations, two other gentlemen assisted
him in making various observations, whilst all the others were
actively engaged in arranging the contents of the car.
The Xorth Pole must have been a fine sight as seen floating
majestically in the air, for it was ten times the size of any ordinary
balloon, and much larger than a house of five stories. But we had
only risen into the wished-for current by virtue of our accelerated
velocity, and to keep ourselves in it we should have had to
throw out ballast by sackfuls at a time. We were not rich enough
in sand to do this ; so, after having floated for a few minutes at this
height, we sank and came down into the lower current, which
carried us back again in the direction of the sea.
Fonvielle had instructed M. Tournier, one of our companions, to
break up the ballast that had got compressed into lumps, lest it
should fall to the earth and wound some one ; but the latter allowed
some to slip from his hands before he was able to break it up. We
noticed that it was reduced to dust by its friction against the air in
falling, so that it was found quite unnecessary to break it up ourselves.
A portion of our ballast was composed of yellow sand taken in
haste, at the last moment, from some of the wine-bins in the
neighbourhood. It was very damp, each grain being surrounded
by a thin layer of water. When we threw it out, the damp cloud
formed by it refracted the solar rays and produced a miniature
rainbow, which gradually sank towards the ground.
Our course was directed towards Versailles, and we were not long
in passing between the two ponds of Trappes. The sun was already
c c 2
:;ss TRAVELS IN THE AIR.
near the horizon, and lighted up these two sheets of water with its
oblique rays, giving them a golden colour and a most poetical
aspect. Soon after the sun plunged into the distant mist, and
took a splendid crimson tint, whilst its horizontal diameter appeared
considerably enlarged.
After having admired this preliminary spectacle, we witnessed the
true astronomical sunset ; the optical illusion, by which the width of
the sun's disc appeared so much greater than its height, continued to
the end. We all remained silent and motionless as we contemplated
the grandeur of the display and the striking panorama spread out
before our eyes. But these glorious sunsets, as seen from the
higher regions of the air, will remain unknown to the generality
of mankind, until some Claude Lorraine or some Turner has carried
his brushes and palette above the clouds.
When the splendours around had ceased, we turned our attention
to the ballast that remained ; we had only eighteen bags of it left,
and night was fast coming on. To continue our excursion would
have been an act of imprudence. We allowed the balloon to sink
so gradually that the flags did not show the motion ; and this proves
what uncertain guides they are to an aeronaut, and how little they
indicate the movements of a balloon. It is only when the latter
sinks with almost dangerous rapidity that the motion of the flags
shows some indication of the descent. With the barometer, on the
contrary, it is quite otherwise, and the slightest rise or fall is most
delicately pointed out.
A smiling plain was seen beneath us, and Tissandier pulled the
valve-rope, but the balloon showed no immediate sign of coining down.
Some wooded country advanced towards us and looked menacing : a
few sacks of ballast were at once thrown out and re-established the
equilibrium. Then another plain appeared as soon as we had got
over the woody curtain ; it was covered with crops, but we found it
necessary to come down notwithstanding, for the guide-ropes had
reached the ground and had fastened to something, for we felt them
pulling, and the balloon began to bend over.
As soon as the guide-ropes had got clear of the trees among which
they appeared to have caught hold, we heard them rustle over the
grass as a silk dress might have done, and we could not help listening
to this fantastic but melodious frou-frov, when we felt a shock, but
a much lighter one than we expected to receive. Earely indeed had
this first caress of the earth been so soft with us. It was naturally
followed by a rebound of rather more decided a character; and we
then held on to the rope and i.pened the valve as wide as possible.
,111
THE "NORTH POLE" BALLOON. 391
The balloon fell forward, the car bent over, and we began to rub along
the ground before a wind which, though it could not be termed strong,
was not absolutely wanting in vigour.
The peasants who ran up to assist said that we were going about
as fast as a racehorse, and that from time to time we made leaps
about thirty yards high. In a small car these bounds and dragging
are not very serious, but in the present case six of us were squatted
in one corner of the large car, which was bent over to one side, and
every minute the feet of two of our companions, pirouetting fan-
tastically among the ropes, came in contact with our heads. "We
were obliged to hold firmly to the sides of our vast wicker basket
not to be thrown out.
However, there is no great danger when the balloon descends upon
a well-chosen spot, but itwoidd be interesting, nevertheless, to abridge
tbis portion of the journey as much as possible. And this could be
done were the balloon provided with a thread along its entire surface,
the withdrawal of which would enable the aeronaut to open the
entire envelope at a moment's notice, and thus to let out all the
gas at once.
At last some peasants who were stronger and more active than
the others, caught hold of our guide-ropes and held on to them with
all the strength of their country muscles. We passed the valve-
rope to them, for our arms were so tired that we pulled only as a
mere matter of form, producing little or no effect. Tbis allowed
us to slip out of the car, one by one, and to come down at the.
side of the ropes. We had descended at Auneau, a village that is
not without mark in the history of France. It was the head-quarters
of the Due de Joyeuse, the favourite of Henri III. whom the
Bearnoises routed, and the famous duke offered himself a rich reward
to the soldier who would take his head. How many balloon descents
would be necessary to cause disasters equal to those which civil war
gave rise to in this fertile and peaceful district of La Beauce 1
We passed the night in keeping guard over the balloon, which
we were not able to empty entirely of its gas ; and to this effect we
made a kind of camp around a haystack. The sky was clear ; we
had some good telescopes with us, and the moon lighted us up with
its silver beams. Our bags were full of provisions, and the greater
part of the night passed off very gaily. But we were very tired,
and after supper we slept well upon the soft hay, with the excep-
tion of two of our companions, Messrs. Sonrel and Tournier, wrho
remained up and studied the lunar disc through the telescopes. We
392 TEA VELS IN THE A IE.
had only one regret — that of not being able to pass the night up in
the air.
An entire field was strewed with our balloon baggage before we
left the place. Some thousands of peasants came from great distances
to see us, and we received them with open arms, distributing our
provisions among them. We had taken with us a barrel containing
sixty pints of wine ; also twenty pints of brandy and the same
quantity of coffee. The village policeman imbibed a goodly amount
of these liquids, and in the evening became exceedingly friendly.
His gait had become very unsteady, and having found our speaking-
trumpet in the car, his great delight was to shout into it with all
his force, thereby exciting roars of laughter among the bystanders.
The inhabitants of Auneau, when they saw us descending from the
skies, could scarcely believe their senses, and rubbed their eyes to
make sure they were not dreaming. Whilst one of these good
folks looked most obstinately through the telescope with the object-
glass towards his eye, and would not believe that it was used to
bring distant objects nearer, another persisted in calling our car
a waggon, and expressed his conviction that it had come there by
the railway.
Tn spite of all this joviality, some damage appeared to have been
done to the crops, and our gardc-cliampetrc at once took a note of
it, and most comically serious he was in the performance of his duty.
We had passed over twelve properties, and the entire damage was
estimated at sixty-seven francs. Among those in the list of the
sufferers, figured, for the sum of one franc, two children under age,
and a millionaire who held out his hand for eighteen francs, in pay-
ment of purely problematical damages, for the rye would probably
shoot up again in a few weeks. This was the largest item on the list.
At last it was decided that the town council of the place should
Lake this matter in hand. We thought that the spectacle presented
by the descent of a balloon the size of the North Pole was well
worth sixty -seven francs — but the town council appeared to hesitate.
The representatives of Auneau had drunk our wine ; and they still
deliberate on this important question — the paper that claims the
amount has not yet been provided with a legal stamp !
It has been long thought that the larger a balloon, the greater
the danger of the ascent. This is a singular prejudice. Our ascent
in the North Pair, which was accomplished in a tolerably strong
wind, gives it a firm denial. It is not necessaiy to be a very
export geometrician to understand that in a sphere the volume does
THE "NORTH POLE" BALLOON.
395
not increase at the same rate as the surface. When the diameter of
the sphere is doubled, its volume becomes eigbt times greater, but its
surface is only quadrupled. It is the battle of cubes against squares
that demonstrates that the larger a balloon is the better it is. Never-
theless, there is a certain limit which the maker should not exceed.
Moreover, the larger a balloon, the greater resistance its stuff can
offer. Hence the envelope of the North Pole possesses considerable
tenacity — much greater than could be given to an aerostat of
smaller dimensions ; and relatively to the ascensional power at our
disposal, this envelope is lighter than that of a small balloon made
of gold-beater's skin.
But all these advantages demand greater attention on the part
of those who manage the balloon, for the consequences of error with
a large balloon are much more serious than with a small one. For
instance, if we allow the immense machine to take an improper
amount of descent, it may be impossible to arrest its downward
course in time. Thus it happens that aeronauts who are ignorant of
physical principles are by no means fond of large balloons, for they
have ever before their eyes the consequences of inevitable errors.
These slaves of routine are much in the position of the master of a
small fishing-smack to whom the management of the Great Eastern
might be confided.
THE CAR OF TIIK "KOBTB POLE."
CONCLUSION.
(m. de fu.nvielle and g. tissandier.)
Jf tlic truthful pages wo have written have received any attention
from our readers, they will have gleaned from them that our atmo-
spheric crusades have given us profound faith in the future of aerial
navigation.
We do not mean to say that we have any system for guiding
balloons to place prominently before the public, for we are fully
persuaded that what has happened for railways, steamboats, or even
ordinary ships, will likewise happen for balloons. The railway was
discovered, in principle, the day that an English workman caused
his coal- waggons to roll along wooden rails. The Great Eastern
was virtually discovered the day that the first savage dared to risk
himself upon a river with no other support than the hollowed stem
of a tree.
Balloons are not yet far from this state of infancy. And how is
this ? Are unheard-of efforts of intellect necessary to improve them ?
or must we do so by having recourse to some new principle, such as
that advocated by those who believe in the possibility of causing
objects heavier than air to rise? Not at all. We do not deny that
a more advanced state of mechanics will doubtless have its effects
upon the problem ; but we assert that our engineers have not yet
brought the whole of their actual resources to bear upon the subject.
To construct a balloon which shall be capable of being guided through
the air, will require an enormous amount of patience and numerous
experiments with new appliances.
It is needless to speak of the use of balloons in studying questions
connected with the atmosphere, either for the purposes of astronomy
or any other science, for no one appears to doubt that we have here
a vast field of exploration opened out to us. The Paris Academy of
Sciences has, in fact, a permanent commission sitting upon the subject
of Balloons ; but why should this commission remain so permanently
inactive? Why does it not condense the results of recent events,
conclusion. m\
spread the taste for observation among aeronauts in general, and
describe instruments that might be of use to them ?
Again, why should not captive balloons be more utilized for the
purposes of science ? In the eyes of ordinary people a captive
balloon is merely an aerostat attached to a long rope ; but those
accustomed to meteorological researches know that we have here a
very powerful aid to observation and research — in fact, a scientific
observatory of the highest importance.
The greatest obstacle that balloons have to strive against is that
widespread belief that they are good for nothing. It is this prejudice
that has caused certain intellectual persons, devoted to the problem
of aerial navigation, to turn their attention to the theory of the
possibility of raising bodies heavier than the air. "We do not wish to
induce people to abandon any kind of research, for, whatever its
object, something useful is almost sure to come of it ; but we cannot
help considering this theory as a dangerous diversion in the wrong
direction. The journal called the Aeronaulc, which defends it so
strenuously, actually announced some time back that it would give
no more accounts of balloon ascents, since they were all alike and
taught us nothing new ! Do not let us abandon balloons, however,
before we have really ascertained what can be done by their means.
What would be said of a sailor who, a hundred years ago, abandoned
his sailing vessel because he had a faint notion of steamboats ? Or
what should we think of a man who, in former years, refused to get
into a coach because he had conceived the idea of a railway ?
The guidance of balloons has, moreover, nothing absolutely impos-
sible about it. In our ascent which terminated in the Clichy
Cemetery, when our car was floating in an atmosphere which was
perfectly calm, we should probably have made some way by means of
paddles. And in our windy excursion described in this volume, we
doubt that any apparatus, whether heavier than the air or not, could
possibly have resisted the violence of the aerial currents.
There is a system of aerial navigation which appears to us to
rival all the others ; it consists in making use of the natural
currents of air which flow at various heights in the atmosphere,
and into which we may rise or sink by a proper adjustment of
ballast. The excursions made by Mr. Glaisher have shown the
almost constant existence of these currents of air flowing in different
directions at different elevations. And we have shown in our ascent
from Calais, and in that of the North Pole balloon, that the use of
these currents is by no means chimerical. These notions have since
been again confirmed by a more recent ascent made by Messrs. Duruof
398 TEA VELS IN TEE AIE.
and Bertaux at Monaco, and we have no doubt that new proofs will
be forthcoming every year.
In fact, no one can define the limits of this method, which will be
the more fertile in results the more our knowledge of the atmospheric
currents extends ; and the sooner we become acquainted with their
directions and velocities the better.
Many readers will, no doubt, reproach us for not coming down from
the air with our hands full of new discoveries, and thereby throwing
out a new basis for the future of meteorological science. It might
have been otherwise if we had had better balloons at our disposal,
and if the ascents had been more numerous and more systematically
organized. But in the aerial workshop it is not possible to do good
work with bad tools.
Nevertheless, this book, we sincerely hope, will make an epoch
in the history of aerostatics, for it is the first time that a series of
aerial scenes have been published as observed by aerona\its. It is
the first time that artists have gone up in balloons for the purpose of
familiarizing the eyes of the public with the scenes they have been
called upon to reproduce with the pencil. And if balloons, so much
neglected in modern times, had merely placed before the gaze of
the aerial explorer these incomparable panoramas, these magnificent
scenes, before which the Alps themselves grow small, whilst earthly
sunsets are eclipsed in splendour, and the ocean itself drowned in
an ocean of light still more vast, would they not have done enough
for the glory of Montgolfier and Pilatre?
THE END.
LONDON :
R c T.AV. SUNS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS,
I '. I : K U> STREET HILL.
THE CAMiBKLL. AIR SHIP.
Hosran Reported to B^ Safe— Sketch of
His Career — Narrow Escape of His
Brother.
Jackson, Mich., July 20.— Though nothing
definite had been heard of Prof. Ed Hogan,
there are many rumors rite that the daring
aeronaut is safe. A private dispatch is said
: hive been received by Campbell from
Hogan, sent from Gattlesburg, a village on
Long Island, nearly 100 miles from New
York, stating in effect that he landed within
a mile of the village at about 10 p. m. Tues-
day, corning down directly underneath ttie
settling alt-ship. He was nearly overcome
with asphyxia, and would havo died but for
lis presence of mind In cutting his way
through the can vas monster. More dead
than alive, he reached a village and was
cared for by the good people. lie immedi-
ately became unconscious from exhaustion
and hunger and no one knew who he was
until Wednesday noon, when the air ship
was found and Hogan had regained con-
sciousness. It occurred to Hogan at this
juncture to keep quiet and give the newspa-
pers a chance to throw themselves, which
they did, as It proved.
Hogan's Career.
Special Dispatch to the Globe-Democrat:
Fokt Wayne, Ind.. July 20.— rrof. E. D.
Hogan was very well known here. Ho Uvea
at Jackson, Mich., 150 miles north of Fort
Wayne, and had made several ascensions by
means of hot-air balloons from the grounds
of the Northern Indiana Fair Association, In
this city. lie had made hundreds of ascen-
sions and twenty-eight parachute Jumps
from the clouds.
On the occasion of his last visit to Fort
Wayne he narrated in an Interesting manner
some of his thrilling experiences. Once he
v, as suspended for several hours upon a
church spire, where Ills balloon lodged, and
he could not bo rescue from his perilous po-
sition until a scaffold was built up to iilm
from below. At another time, while making
an ascension at Hamilton, Out... lust at even-
ing, be was blown out Into the lake and lay
hours In the water, clinging to his balloon,
be'ore he was picked up In the darkness by
a tug. It was Uogan's habit to wear
a lire-preserving Jacket, which lie would in-
flate with air so that he would be safe If he
should descend in the water. Half a hun-
ared times lias bis car come down In lake or
river and lie escaped without harm. When
asked If he did not dread the moment of an
ascent, lie replied that that was the most
delightful part of his profession, and his
trips skyward were always attended by the
keenest enjoyment. Hogan claimed to have
here t > o'clock last evening, going 4000
feethlgii, and had a narrow from
death. The top gnv rove ot tlio balloon be-
camo fastened to tiie parachute, ana it was
not until the balloon had reached within 900
feet of the ground In Its descent that the
aeronaut was able to shake the ropo off. He
Prof. E. D. Hogan.
had Jumped before making thei discovery.
Hogan alighted upon a stone, oreaslng two
ribs, and was dragged 50 feet, bruising his
side and shoulder. He left this morning for
Jackson.
An Ascension in Michizan.
Special Dispatch to the Globe-Democrat.
Cold water, Mien., July 20.— Prof. Sam
Craig, a well-known balloonist of this sec-
tion, made an ascension at Tlbbltt's Park,
near here, last evening, and intended to